It's Not Ronald, It's Fred
by Azure Drake
Summary: A sleepy encounter in the Gryffindor Common Room leaves Fred Weasley unable to think of anyone but Hermione Granger. But what will he do when she suddenly disappears, and no one knows what happened to her? And why does Ron look so guilty?
1. It's Not Ronald, It's Fred

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

Chapter One: It's Not _Ronald_, It's Fred

It was late in the Gryffindor common room. Everyone had gone to bed early so they would be able to get up early the next morning for classes—everyone except for one Gryffindor. Hermione Granger sat on a large, squishy couch in front of a fireplace with a book in her hands.

Her lids were heavy and threatened to cover her blurring eyes, but she fought with all her might to stay awake. She was studying for the O.W.L exams, even though they were months away. This had been her routine since the beginning of the year: Wake up. Eat breakfast. Go to classes. Eat Dinner. Go to the library. Go to sleep, and do it again the next day.

Since she hadn't died yet of sleep deprivation, Hermione took it as a sign that she could continue to follow her schedule. Her body would undoubtedly scream at her and command her to sleep, but she figured she could pay back the sleep debt during holiday breaks. The problem Hermione seemed to be facing was that her mind was more determined to study than her body was. As she finished the chapter in her latest book, her tired eyes took control of her and soon all she saw was darkness. Her book fell to the floor as her fingers lost grip of the binding, and the thunk it made resonated throughout the entire common room.

The noise had awoken Fred Weasley, even though he hadn't really been sleeping. He was distraught from his recent Quidditch scrimmage with Slytherin that afternoon—his team lost 10-4. He had spent the entire afternoon wallowing in self-pity, and proceeded to do so all night instead of going to sleep. Until, that is, he heard a loud noise downstairs in the common room.

He knew that it was probably nothing, but his body was wide awake and needed to get up and go do something. Fred got out of bed and put on his slippers before making his way to the common room door. As he made his way down the staircase, a snoring sound made its way into his eardrums.

"Must be another overly stressed first year…" He muttered to himself as he rounded the stairs. However, the bushel of hair that caught his eye when he entered the common room was not the hair of a first year.

He made his way across the room to the couch in the far corner and stopped in front of the fire. Hermione Granger lay in front of him on her back, with one arm over the back of the couch and the other flopped over the side—she was snoring a little.

"_What a bookworm."_ He thought, and walked closer to the couch, kneeling over Hermione.

"Hermione," Fred whispered as he nudged her shoulder lightly. "Hermione, get up and go back to your dormitory."

"Go away Ronald, I'm trying to sleep."

"Ron?"

"No, Fred. Of course I mean Ronald."

"Whatever. Hermione, get up and go back to your dormitory—all the guys are laughing at you because we can hear your walrus noises from upstairs in our room."

She turned over so her back was facing Fred. "No you can't, Ronald, leave me alone."

"I will not! Now get up and go to bed."

"I can't," she murmured into the couch pillow, "My eyes are exhausted from reading all day, everything is blurry when I open my eyes…"

"Then I'll just have to carry you."

Hermione turned back over and opened her eyes a little. She yawned and stretched her arms a little, and then got up and walked towards her dormitory.

"Happy now?" she muttered under her breath and she walked past Fred and around the couch.

"Yes." Said Fred, and just as he was about to turn around and go up to his room, Hermione tripped on the leg of a side-table and fell to the floor.

"For the love of Merlin!" Fred said as he ran over to Hermione. "You really are blind—let me walk you upstairs and then your roommates can deal with you up there."

"Thanks Ron, what a good boyfriend you are. I'll remember that next time you need me to help you."

Fred wrapped Hermione's left arm around his shoulder and walked with her up the stairs to the Girl's Dormitory. She stumbled a few times over items left strewn across the pathway, but Fred had almost gotten her to the top when the stairs disappeared from under his feet and a slide took its place. He was pulled backwards, taking Hermione with him sliding downstairs into the floor of the common room. He rolled down the slide until he hit a book on the floor and went flying backwards a few feet—landing on his back on the cold, hard floor. Hermione hit the same book on the way down and was jettisoned forward, right onto Fred.

"Ow…" they both said while rubbing their heads.

"Hermione, get off, you're hurting me…"

She didn't seem to hear him, however, and rested her head against his chest and fell proceeded to fall asleep again. Fred nudged her shoulder a little bit, then her stomach, trying to get her to move.

"Hermione, get off, you need to walk upstairs by yourself… The stairs won't let guys come up to your dorm."

"But I'm comfortable here, Ronald, let me sleep."

"Okay, first off, it's not _Ronald_, it's Fred. And second, I need to go to bed too, so get off."

"Not Ron…?" Hermione lay still to let the words comprehend in her brain. Slowly, she got up and looked at Fred in the eyes.

"Oh… It is you, Fred. I'm sorry…" She looked down in embarrassment, and sat up. She caught Fred's eye on the way up and paused. Her eyes wandered down from his blue eyes to his long nose and pink lips, and farther down to his chest, which was breathing heavily and bare.

"Why are you down here?" She asked as she studied his muscles—his shoulders, chest, and stomach.

"I heard a thumping noise and I figured I'd come down here and see what it was." Fred knew she was staring at him, and wasn't sure whether or not to be excited or frightened. After all, it _was_ Hermione, and she could curse him into Oblivion if he made any sudden movements.

"Oh."

"Hermione?" Fred asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"You're still sitting on me."

Hermione jumped off immediately after realizing she hadn't gotten off. "I'm sorry," she said over and over again, and scurried back to her couch to gather her book. She picked it up and made her way passed Fred to go up to her room.

"Good night Hermione." Fred said as he turned away to go back to sleep.

"Good night Fred."

Hermione stumbled up the stairs and into her room, eventually plopping into bed and falling to sleep. Her dreams were crowded by the chapter she wasn't able to read that night and a red haired boy on a broomstick.

Fred watched Hermione make her way up the stairs to make sure she didn't kill herself, and then glided up the stairs to his bed. His thoughts were still cluttered with the Quidditch match that afternoon, but a sandy haired girl made her way onto his body and slept with him in his dreams.


	2. Visions of the Past and Future

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** Hi Guys! You have no idea how excited I am for this story! I posted my first chapter and went to bed, and when I woke up I had subscribers and reviews! My heart filled with joy every time I got an e-mail saying I had a new subscriber, or my story was added to someone's favorite list! You absolutely made my week, and I look forward to hearing what you think about this chapter! Also, I changed the summary of my story to help people get a feel as to wear I'm going with it. Take a look!

Chapter Two: Visions of the Past and Future

The room was silent in the dead of night. The floor was cold as ice; the windows were frozen over and no longer brought moonlight into the room. Items lay scattered across the floor—books, pictures, and stolen trinkets covered the walls as well.

A man made his way into the room. The sound of his footsteps echoed through the silence, his every breath making the cold air colder. He made his way across the room and down an aisle of dusty shelves. His breathing was heavy, and as he made his way down the aisle it grew deeper and coarser. He stopped at the very end, eyes widening in excitement.

"_Right where I left you_," he thought.

His long, translucent, slender fingers made their way from under his sleeves and into the back of the bookcase. He pulled out a glass vial about the size of a ping-pong ball and placed into the pockets in his robes. Its snake-like shape glowed a deep green, and the eyes on the bottle flickered from black to red as the man stared at it. A smirk appeared on his cold, white face, and his red eyes glistened at the last glimpse of the container as it went into his pocket.

He made his way back to the entrance of the room and put on a cloak before proceeding to leave. His body became invisible, and he made his way down a few of the moving staircases outside of the room. The room he left behind was once again quiet, and was colder than ever. His body had no warmth, only a numbingly cold touch that made everything around him shiver with fright.

He made his way into the Common Room and walked down the stairs into the Boy's Dormitory. His quiet footsteps and quiet laughter could not be heard over the snoring of the boys, and he had no trouble walking over to the bed of one in particular.

He slept uncomfortably in his bed, his hand on his forehead and his face in agony. The man brought out his wand and pointed it at the boy's forehead.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" He screamed, and every Gryffindor boy awoke to see a snake-like man laughing maniacally, and Harry Potter dead on the floor.

* * *

It was freezing in the Girl's Dormitory as everyone rushed to get ready for classes—everyone except for Hermione. Her late night study session had allowed her only four hours of sleep, and the biting cold only lessened her desire to get out of bed. The warmth of the covers surrounded her and radiated throughout her body. She had woken up minutes earlier to the sound of Ginny waking her up, but was slowly falling back asleep…

Until someone began to pound on the door. Pound on the door, stop, and then yell. The yell sounded as if it was getting farther away at first, but then it approached again. More pounding at the door occurred, and another yell as the voice trailed off. Hermione could barely make out the voice in her sleepy state.

"Ernie!" The voice yelled.

"_Ernie?_" she thought to herself. "_There's no Ernie in this Dormitory_."

"Hernie!" It yelled again, still far away.

"Hernie?" She mumbled woozily, slowly slipping away from unconsciousness. The voice became clearer.

"Hermione!" The voice yelled, and immediately Hermione realized who it was. She hopped out of bed, stopping for a moment to shiver violently. At the end of her bedpost, a fleece jacket waited for her.

Her whole body seemed to convulse for a minute while she waited for her body to warm up in the sweater and get used to the cold, and she put her shoes on to head downstairs.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled again as she opened the door.

"What on earth is the matter with you, Harry? I was trying to sleep!" She yelled at him.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I just… I had a horrible nightmare, and I think it means something."

Hermione took a moment to look at Harry. He clearly was not in a good condition—he was sweaty, dark circles outlined his eyes, and his body looked limp. This had happened before in the past when Harry had had nightmares, but never had he considered his dreams urgent enough to wake her.

"Why did you keep screaming?"

"I kept trying to go upstairs and talk to you, but every time I'd get to the door and pound the stairs would collapse and I'd fall back down."

An image of Fred Weasley popped into Hermione's head. In his pajamas, coming down and making sure she went to bed.

"A dream? You haven't had one of those in awhile…" She said.

"I know, and this one is big."

"What happened in it?"

"Uh, Hermione…" Harry said as he turned around to look at the Common Room. Nearly every Gryffindor stood a little ways behind him, listening in on what new drama was about to unfold.

"Uh, right. Well, we can talk about it during breakfast, then. Go get Ron." She said, and made her way downstairs. After waiting quite a long time for Ron to get out of bed, she walked with him and Harry out of the Common Room and into the Great Hall, still being followed by every member of the Gryffindor house.

They made their way to their usual spot at the end of the table, closest to the door. After eating slowly without speaking to lose most of the eavesdroppers' interest, Hermione broached the subject again quietly.

"What happened in your dream, Harry?"

"Yeah Harry, you look really upset." Ron said as he shoveled eggs into his mouth.

"I was seeing through Voldemort's eyes again…" Harry said, sounding uneasy.

"What did you see?" Hermione asked.

"He was walking through a long, dark room full of bookshelves. And he was looking for something… He ended up pulling a glass vial from one of the shelves."

"What did it look like?

"It was shaped like a snake and it was green… It had eyes that flashed red, and it was pretty small. I think…" Harry seemed to lose his train of thought and stopped talking.

At that moment, Fred and George entered the Great Hall and sat down at the far end of the table. Fred's eyes met hers, holding her gaze until they both turned fuchsia and abruptly looked away. Hermione forced herself not to look over at Fred, who she could see in the corner of her eye was looking at her again, and tried to get Harry's attention.

"What was in it?" she asked impatiently.

Harry did not answer. His eyes were glazed over as if he were lost in thought. He didn't blink, he didn't eat, and from Hermione's perspective it didn't look as if he was breathing at all.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, trying to get him to respond. "Harry? Harrrrryyyyy? Oh for the love of Merlin, _HARRY_!

He jolted upright. "Oh! Sorry, I was thinking."

"Yes, I could see that. Now what was in the vial?"

"I don't' know… I couldn't see what was in it, the color was too dark."

"Well, I think it just sounds like another dream, Harry. I don't think it's anything for you to worry about-"Ron began to say, but he was interrupted.

"No, there's more, Ron. He went out of the room in an invisibility cloak and traveled down a few floors."

"And?" He asked, annoyed.

"On moving staircases."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "He was in Hogwarts?"

"That's what I'm confused on. He came into the Boy's Dormitory and… killed me. But I'm still alive so I don't know how it could have been real. It could have just been a nightmare."

There was silence at the table as the three ate, processing the dream in their minds.

"Harry…" Hermione said slowly. "What room is on the 7th floor?"

Harry thought for a moment, but nothing came to mind.

"The Room of Requirement!" Ron exclaimed through a mouthful of hash browns.

"I don't think you were imagining things, Harry. It was too detailed for it to be a nightmare. Killing you might have just been a fantasy of his while he was walking through the room-"

"Or maybe whatever he was looking for is going to help him kill you." Ron interjected.

"Either way, don't go anywhere alone…" Said Hermione in a motherly way. "The only way to find out is to go and search through the Room of Requirement ourselves and look for whatever he wanted to find."

"We'll do it tomorrow after dinner. But we have to get going or else we're going to be late for Herbology."

"Oh no! We have to leave now!" Hermione squealed, and the three Gryffindors packed their things and hurried out of the Great Hall, making their way to Herbology.

* * *

The day continued on in the same fashion it had every day that year. Harry, Ron, and Hermione traveled from class to class, with Hermione taking diligent notes while Ron and Harry passed them.

Right after lunch, the three were walking to their classes—Hermione on her way to Potions, Ron and Harry on their way to Ancient Runes. On their way they passed Fred and George Weasley.

"Hey Guys," they said in unison, although their eyes were not looking at the same thing.

George was looking playfully at Ron and Harry, who looked ready to run if the twins decided to pull any sort of prank on them, while Fred looked at Hermione. They stared at each other while the others bantered, not noticing the peculiarity of the situation.

"Hey, Hermione." Fred said.

"Hi Fred." She replied quietly.

Hermione's mind drifted to the night before, and her flashbacks of falling on top of Fred burst into her head. He had looked so nice, and it was so sweet of him to help her upstairs… She turned bright red and looked away.

"Well I have to go guys I can't be late or else I'll be in trouble and I certainly don't want that I'll be in the library after dinner if you need me okay? Okay bye!" She said hurriedly, and took off before Ron and Harry even realized she had said anything.

"What's her problem?" Ron asked, watching her walk down the corridor.

"I don't know," said Harry, "She was fine this morning…"

"I'd just blame it on girly hormones and leave it at that, guys." Said Fred.

As Harry, Ron, and George continued their banter, Fred continued to watch Hermione walk down the corridor. His eyes traced her bushy, sandy-blonde hair bounce behind her as she practically ran away from him. Was she embarrassed about what happened the night before, or was she repulsed?

Whatever the answer was, it would be waiting for him in the library after dinner.

**Author's Note:** Please Read and Review!! It will take one or two more chapters to get to the main story, please bear with me! I can't just rush into it or it'll turn out horribly. Thanks for reading!!


	3. A Blush That Just Won't Go Away

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** Hi guys! It's been a really long time since I'm updated. I've had a lot of homework, but here is the third chapter! Hope you like.

Chapter Three: A Blush That Just Won't Go Away

The grass shivered beneath his feet as he made his way through the forest. His presence instilled fear into every living creature—they felt the chill in their souls and the rapid beating of their hearts as soon as he apparated into the forest. Every inhabitant watched him as he walked down the pathway towards the castle, their mouths agape at the body they thought no longer existed.

A young centaur fell from behind a bush he had been watching him from—his hurried squeals echoed through the forest as he scrambled to take shelter. The man stopped and turned around to investigate the noise, and he grinned as he watched the centaur clumsily attempt to get into the bush. He smirked, and the centaur's screams reverberated across the trunks of the trees as a jet of green light burst from his wand.

* * *

Hermione sat a table near the Restricted Section during dinner. Harry had left dinner early and gone to his dormitory, complaining of a horrible stomachache, and since she wasn't hungry she decided to start her research early. Hermione had only been there a few minutes, but books were quickly towering over her head as she searched through the shelves.

This was mainly because she had absolutely no idea what she should be searching for. Normally she had a specific topic to research, something that could be investigated fairly quickly. This time she had nothing but a small glass vial with a snake on it. She hurried through the library, grabbing books on a variety of things. Books on the Dark Arts, Glass Vials, and Animal Symbolism.

She quickly scanned through the books on the table, making her way to a thin one. The Complex Symbolism of Animals made its way into her mind as she turned page after page, until she abruptly stopped turning. In big letters read the chapter title: The Snake.

_**Chapter Five: The Snake**_

_The Snake can be interpreted in many different ways, but it is rarely interpreted in a positive way. The snake is most commonly known as the bringer of destruction. Mankind's misunderstanding of the snake has caused its reputation to be menacing, evil, and the representative of the devil. Only a small percentage of muggle cultures identify the snake as a symbol of redemption and rejuvenation._

Hermione placed the book aside and rubbed her eyelids, thinking about what Ron had said at breakfast the previous morning. _"Or maybe whatever he was looking for is going to help him kill you."_ Ron had obviously thought of the right usage of the vial, but what would be in it? A simple juice, or a complicated potion?

Her thoughts were interrupted by footsteps coming from the entrance of the library over to her table. She pretended to read her book silently, waiting for the person to pass her. However, to her dismay, Fred Weasley made his way towards her table and sat down next to her—both their cheeks immediately flushed scarlet as their eyes met.

"Evening, Hermione." Fred said with a smile.

"Evening, Fred."

There was stillness in the room as the greetings ended. Hermione went back to searching through books while Fred awkwardly twiddled his thumbs. Minutes passed, and while they said nothing to one another, the color of their cheeks said it all.

"So, what are you doing in the library?" Fred asked.

"I'm researching."

"What are you looking up?"

"How to get older red headed boys to mind their own business."

"Ouch, Hermione, now what kind of message are you sending to me by saying that? It sounds to me like you want me to go away."

Annoyed, Hermione looked away from her book and towards Fred. Her cheeks flushed deeper as her eyes met his, and looked away. Flashes of two nights ago swam through her head, and she couldn't help but look back up at him. Her annoyance transformed into tenderness, and she couldn't bring herself to snap at him.

"I'm researching, that's all."

"What on earth could be important enough to skip dinner for? There are still 45 minutes left to chow down."

"I'm not a bottomless pit like Ron; I'm still full from lunch."

"I'm sure you are—now what are you researching?"

"The question is, Fred, if dinner is so important to you, why on Earth are you in here with me?"

"I just like disturbing you, what can I say. I disrupt you in the library, in the hallways, in your sleep—"

Both of them froze. They glanced at each other, looked away, then glanced again, then looked away again. It was as if Fred had had the wind knocked out of him, and Hermione had lost her ability to speak. The awkward silence choked them both and made it almost unbearable to breathe. The tension rose, and Hermione was the first to break the silence. She pushed out her chair, got up, and walked down the aisles in search of a book on all sorts of potions, leaving Fred with his mouth agape.

* * *

For the third time, he apparated into the dark room, but for the first time, the glass vial lay empty in his clenched hands. He grinned and walked over to the door that led him into the hallway. With a tap of his wand his body became undetectable to the human eye. He opened the door, walked down the hallway and made his way down the moving staircases.

The people in the portraits on the walls trembled. They were suddenly and unexplainably afraid. They could not see him as he made his way down to the common room, and in their distraught state they didn't see the door swing open in the few seconds the Fat Lady was out of her portrait.

* * *

Fred was not going to give up easily. He wanted to know what had happened the other night, and how she was feeling about it. Technically, he had already gotten an answer, but it was not a verbal answer. Body language was not enough for Fred—he had to hear Hermione say whether or not it had an effect on her. He ran after her until he caught up with her.

"I see how it is, just leave me sitting by myself. What would have happened if a troll came out of nowhere and ate me alive? You'd feel pretty bad if you came back and I was just a pile of bones."

"I think you could defend yourself, Fred. You're a big boy." Fred's smirk found its way back to his face.

"Indeed, I am, I'm old enough to help old ladies cross the street and overtired Gryffindors back to their dormitories."

Hermione ignored the comment and kept walking until she made it to the "Potions" aisle. She pulled out a book and began to search through a list of potions. While she made her way back to her table, she took the bait.

"Sorry for falling on you." She whispered.

"It's okay."

"I didn't plan it or anything."

"I know you didn't."

Fred went back to twiddling his thumbs as Hermione searched through the lists of potions.

"I must say, I wasn't expecting it." He said awkwardly.

"Yeah… awkward." The image of his bare chest in her mind was anything but awkward.

"Have you… thought about it?"

"Thought about what?"

"What happened the other night."

Hermione turned over to look at Fred. Their eyes met for the second time and they both blushed furiously. Again. Fred had a hopeful look in his eyes, but Hermione looked petrified. What was she supposed to say? Oh yes Fred, I think about falling on top of you every few hours and I love the thought of it—how awkward would that be? She couldn't say that to him. Looking Fred right in the eye, she took a deep breath and lied.

"Oh, that? No, I haven't thought about it."

"Oh." Said Fred, clearly disturbed. "Well, me either. Just kind of a funny incident."

At that point, Hermione was the color of a tomato. She wanted Fred to go away so she could research—even though she wasn't really getting anything done in the first place. She wanted him to leave her alone and not bring up the other night.

Until he sat close and started reading the Potions book over her shoulder.

"So I've figured out why you're researching." Fred said quietly into her ear, causing Hermione to jump a little.

"What am I researching, then?"

"You, Harry, and my brother are up to something again. I could see it in your eyes yesterday at breakfast. You've in the library ever since, Harry is looking overly serious again, and Ron… Well, Ron looks confused, like always."

"Good guess."

"So what are you all cooking up?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"What can I say, lately you just capture my attention."

Hermione sighed—he just wouldn't give up. It was obvious that Fred was going to be hanging around. A lot. He must have known that she liked their little encounter, and he wasn't going to leave until she admitted it. _Oh well_, she thought, _I might as well put him to work_.

"You're just nosy, admit it!"

"Nosy and devastatingly charming." He said, smiling.

"Not so sure about the second one."

"Ouch! That hurts, Hermione!"

Hermione laughed. "Okay Fred, if you really want to know what's going on I'll tell you—under one condition."

"And what would that be?"

"You have to help me research."

"Normally I'm opposed to work, but it can't take too long with you working with me."

"Harry had a dream that Voldemort was going to kill him. He had a dream that he was here in Hogwarts just a few nights ago, searching through the Room of Requirement. He took a glass vial, and we think he might use whatever he took to kill Harry. It had a snake on the vial, so right now all I can search for is what snakes represent and deadly potions. In all honesty I have no idea what to look for."

"You guys always find a puzzle to solve or someone to save, don't you?" Fred laughed to himself, "Will you ever have a calm year?"

"Not until Voldemort is dead."

"Well, what do snakes represent?" He asked.

"Most people think of the snake as a bringer of destruction—which is how I know that whatever is in the vial is deadly."

"Well… That's obvious."

"It is."

"I don't know any names specifically, but I'd assume he'd use something that kills you quickly. Something that kills you in the blink of an eye but feels like an eternity of pain. Also, by killing you quickly there's no chance of someone intervening and saving his life."

"That's entirely possible—but I don't understand why he wouldn't just come to the school and kill Harry. Why go through this whole ordeal with stealing a potion when he could just kill him with a flick of his wand?"

"Harry is always with people, though. He can't appear out of nowhere, kill Harry, and then leave. He needs to get him alone when no one is there."

"That's a good point. It instills more fear in people when no one sees him die. They don't know who will be next, and no one knows if he died quickly or slowly. Leave it to the imagination and people will become hysterical. And technically, no one will have any real proof that it was Voldemort who killed him. They might think there's a killer amongst them."

"See? I'm helping you already! I've been here a half hour and already I've helped you understand the inner workings of a murderer."

"Very good, Fred! Should I pat you on the back and give you a treat?"

"I'll only eat it if it's shaped like Filch's head."

Both of them were laughing. It was fun to enjoy each other's company and joke around. They looked at one another, and Hermione became angry because her face flushed again. Suddenly she realized she liked having Fred around, and she didn't want him to go away. A flicker went across Fred's face, and he smiled. He leaned in a little, still staring at her, but she was too petrified to move. She was nervous. She didn't know what to say. She wanted words to come out but the enclosing distances between their faces made it harder and harder to think.

"Maybe I think about it a little." She blurted out into the silence.

Fred smiled. "Maybe I think about it a little too."

"It wasn't really that awkward when you think about it—it could have happened to anybody."

"Very true."

"It was nice of you to look out for my well being."

"More so of mine—after all, you _were_ snoring."

"Oh yeah, I do that when I'm really tired…"

It was then Hermione realized that there was nothing else to say. There were no other distractions. Fred continued to lean in more, and after a few seconds Hermione gave in. She leaned in closer as well—so much closer that her nose touched his. She closed her eyes and he closed his as they leaned in slowly and nervously, both forgetting to breath. He reached over and put his hand on her cheek—

"HERMIONE!" a voice shattered the silence from the entrance to the library. It was far away, and the voice was unidentifiable. Hermione and Fred jumped apart from the voice.

"HERMIONE!" The voice yelled again, but this time it was getting farther away.

"They're going to the wrong side of the library." She said to Fred. "I'M OVER HERE!" She yelled.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" The voice screamed as it came closer. The footsteps became louder and more hurried as the voice came closer, and with one last call to Hermione, Ginny Weasley bolted around the corner to Hermione and Fred.

"What's wrong, Ginny? You scared me half to death when you screamed my name—"

"Hermione…" Ginny said quietly, and then burst into tears.

"What?"

"Harry's dead."


	4. A Love Lost

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** Hey everybody! I realized last night that it has been over three weeks since I last updated—so I hammered out the fourth chapter today! Sorry it took so long, I'll admit I haven't wanted to write this chapter. The scene of Hermione on the stairs (Maybe you'll understand when you read it) filled me with sadness and was really saddening to write. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Four: A Love Lost

"Harry's… What?" Hermione asked slowly.

"He's dead, Hermione, he's dead! Seamus found him in the Boy's Dormitory on the floor…"

"What happened to him? Ginny, does Seamus know?"

"No one knows. When Seamus got there he was cold as ice…"

"Oh my god—Is he still there? Ginny, I need to be with him—he can't lie there alone! I will not let his soul remain cold forever!" Hermione leapt from her seat and ran out of the library, leaving her bag and books on the table. "One of you find Ron! NOW!" She screamed as she bolted out the door. Fred couldn't manage to keep up with her; Ginny had fallen to the floor in a wave of uncontrollable sobs and he had to stay and comfort her.

"We'll find him as soon as possible!" Fred howled after her, hoping she heard him. In the meantime he sat on the floor with his sister, holding her in his arms and comforting her as she wailed into the night.

"I loved him…" She kept whispering. "I loved him…"

"I know you did, Ginny—I'm so sorry."

"I loved him…"

"Everything is going to be alright, Ginny. It's okay."

"I loved him…"

Fred sighed, holding his sister a little tighter. "I know you did." He sighed again. "He loved you too."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whispers followed Hermione as she sprinted to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Whose going to save us if You-Know-Who attacks the school?" A Ravenclaw girl asked.

"Do you think it was You-Know-Who that killed him?" A Slytherin inquired.

"How did You-Know-Who get into the school?" Asked a Hufflepuff.

All of the whispering infuriated Hermione. She stopped dead in her tracks, turned around, and walked straight to a group of first year Ravenclaws who were talking the most.

"It was VOLDEMORT that killed Harry, you stupid cows!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs. "VOLDEMORT got into the school and VOLDEMORT killed Harry because VOLDEMORT is an evil, egomaniacal murderer! VOLDEMORT did this; VOLDEMORT is causing us all this pain  
and worry, so call him by his name! VOLDEMORT! VOLDEMORT! VOLDEMORT! Dammit, use your brains—it's just a name!"

The entire hallway stopped dead in their tracks at the mention of his name so many times. They were frightened beyond all belief, and the mention of his name only scared them more. It sent a chill down their spines, and a feeling of rapidly approaching death that would not go  
away. Hermione's meltdown had scared everyone as well. She was always generally nice to everyone, and for her to scream in the faces of unknowing first years… That was unheard of.

"VOLDEMORT!" They heard her scream one last time as she rounded the corner to the fat lady's painting.

She didn't have to say the password; there were so many people inside and out of the dormitory that the fat lady couldn't swing her portrait closed. People of every house stood outside the dormitory. Most were crying silently to themselves as still as statues, while others sat against a wall with blank expressions on their faces. Harry Potter, the great savior or the wizarding world… Dead? Who would protect them?

Hermione tried to push through the crying statues, but they formed a stonewall. "Let me through!" She screamed, beating on people's backs until they moved. "Let me through! That's my best friend!" Tears formed around her eyes.

The statues turned real when they heard her desperate calls. "It's Hermione." The crowd whispered, looking at her with sad faces. A pathway soon parted into the dormitory. "Let her through! It's Potter's best mate."

Hermione walked through the pathway that was slowly opening up for her. Each step she made towards the Boy's Dormitory made her lose a little more of her self control. Her eyes teared up with one step. Her hands began to shake with another. Another made her legs wobble beneath her. The last step brought her to the foot of the stairs to the boys Dormitory. When she got halfway up the stairs she saw Harry's untidy jet-black hair. With a few more steps she saw his body lying still on the floor, with his hand on his chest. She began to run up the stairs, soon seeing Seamus and Ron sitting next to his body. She almost reached the doorway when the stairs collapsed beneath her feet and she fell down to the foot of the stairs.

"HARRY!" Her blood-curdling scream echoed through the Common Room. She got up and ran towards the stairs again. They collapsed under her a second time and she slid down to the floor. "RON! HELP ME GET UP THERE!"

"I don't know how to get you up here Hermione! I don't know how to fix it!"

"HARRY!" She screamed again, sobbing uncontrollably. "RON! I HAVE TO SEE HIM!"

"Does anybody know how to get her up here?" Ron yelled through the crowd.

"HARRY!" She howled again. "HARRY!"

Hermione attempted to run up the stairs again. As they collapsed she jumped towards Ron to try and catch his hand, but she couldn't get far enough to grab it and climb into the dormitory. Again and again she screamed for Harry and Ron as she fell down the stairs and into the crowds, her screams becoming louder and more frightening. Ron became more and more flustered as each of Hermione's attempts failed.

"Somebody help her for god's sake! Somebody help her get up here!"

But Hermione had given up. With one last scream she slid down the stairs and landed on her hands and knees. She stopped holding herself up, and howled into the floor, her tears creating a puddle on the surface. "How could this have happened?" She cried, and pounded her fist against the ground. "How could this have happened! I just left him alone for an hour!"

Hermione's sobs sent a chill down everyone's spine. No one comforted her; no one knew how to help her. Ron was frightened as well. He couldn't leave Harry's body, but he couldn't leave Hermione lying there all alone.

"Somebody help her get up here!" He yelled again.

"I can't help her get into your dormitory, but I will bring her to my office." A voice called from the entrance to the dormitory.

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall hurried through the crowd. Dumbledore made his way up the stairs while McGonagall rushed to Hermione's aid.

"Shhh, it's okay. It's going to be alright." She lulled into Hermione's ear, who gripped her tightly.

"Minerva," Dumbledore said, appearing at the doorway of the Boy's Dormitory. "Take Miss Granger to my office, the young Mr. Weasley and I are going to escort Harry there as well."

"Of course. Come on, sweetie. Time to get up."

Hermione made her way out of the dormitory with Dumbledore, Ron and Harry close behind. Harry lay in a floating stretcher covered in a white sheet that followed along with Ron and Dumbledore. Everyone bowed their heads as his body passed by, saying sweet things to try  
and lighten their spirits. It seemed as if the entire school was there.

Everyone except for Fred and Ginny, who were just making their way towards the Gryffindor Common Room as the commotion was coming to an end. Fred had Ginny's arms around his shoulders, and he supported all of her weight as they walked towards the Common Room. She cried into his chest the entire way there—until they turned a corner and saw him floating down the hallway. Ginny became still; her body tensed at the sight of him.

"Ginny, come with me." Ron beckoned, and she ran over to her brother and flung her arms around him. He stumbled a little from the weight she added to him. "Fred, go get George and go to Dumbledore's office."

"Okay." Fred said, and ran into the Gryffindor Common Room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"This is a sad time for us all." Dumbledore said as he sat behind his desk. "I'm sure that all of you are as surprised about this as I am—I never saw it coming."

"I had no idea…" Said Ginny as she stared at the corner of Dumbledore's desk. There was a silence as she looked over at Hermione, Ron, and Fred to nod or say something in agreement.

"Oh, yeah… We never saw this coming either." Ron said hurriedly. Hermione and Fred stayed quiet. They had all known that this was coming.

"Isn't there some way to bring him back to life Professor Dumbledore?" Ginny asked through choked back tears.

"I'm afraid there is nothing you can do, Miss Weasley."

Ginny began to cry again, as loud as ever. She rocked back and forth in her seat and held herself tightly as her eyes flooded over so everything was blurry.

"Fred, George, I suggest you take Ginny back to her dormitory. It's been a long night, I think she would do well with some rest." Said Dumbledore quietly. Fred and George quickly got up; each of them took one of Ginny's arms and wrapped them around their shoulders.

"Come on Ginny, let's get you to bed." Fred said quietly. As he made his way to the door, he turned around to take one last look at Hermione. He had a feeling she would stay hidden for the next few weeks, and he was afraid he wouldn't see her for a while. However, when he turned around his eyes were displeased by what they were seeing.

Ron and Hermione sat close to each other in their chairs, and he could have sworn they were holding hands.

The rest of the night was filled with hours of tearing eyes and whispered voices. Dumbledore reminisced with Ron and Hermione; they all occasionally looked at his body under the sheet—Eventually McGonagall transfigured the stretcher into a white coffin.

There was a lull in the conversation, and Hermione began to consider going back to her dormitory. Just as she was about to excuse herself for the night, Dumbledore cut her off.

"Miss Granger," He began, gazing at her over his half moon spectacles. "Is there something you would like to tell me?"

He knew. Somehow, someway, Dumbledore knew that they had foreseen this coming. Hermione thought for a minute or two—Harry had never told Dumbledore anything he had seen until the end of the year. Should she be like Harry, or should she tell him now? She looked over at Ron, who sleepily nodded his approval.

"I do, Professor Dumbledore." She said slowly, as if it physicallypained her to get the words out.

"I see. I had a feeling you two would know something that I didn't."

"We knew that Voldemort was going to try and… and… kill Harry." She said.

"I see."

There was a silence as Dumbledore waited for Hermione to explain herself. Minutes passed, however, and she showed no signs of being able to speak. The words clenched in her throat and made her eyes sting. She sat trying to loosen the grip of the words.

"Harry had a dream a few days ago," Ron spoke for her. "He was looking through the eyes of Voldemort. He went to the Room of Requirement to take a vial from the shelf and—"

"A vial?" Dumbledore inquired, shifting in his seat. "What did it look like?"

"It was in the shape of a snake—and it was green. Right, Hermione?"

"Right." 

"And then he walked into the Boy's Dormitory and killed Harry, Professor."

"Oh Ronald, you're forgetting parts of the dream." Hermione scowled. "If you're going to tell him about it at least get your facts straight!"

"Alright then, you tell it if you know everything!"

"He whispered, 'Right where I left you' when he grabbed the bottle from the shelf. Meaning he had put it there in the past and was waiting to use it."

"That is very interesting..." Dumbledore whispered to himself.

"Why is it interesting, Professor?" Ron asked.

"I had a feeling this might happen."

"What might happen, Professor? If there's anything Ron and I can do to help reverse it… Just, just ask." Hermione was on the edge of her seat.

"There is something you can do Miss Granger. I would be grateful to you for the rest of my life if—"

"Dumbledore! You can't honestly be serious. Do you know how dangerous that is? She could be killed!" McGonagall interjected angrily from behind Ron and Hermione.

"I am well aware of the consequences of the actions she will be taking, Minerva."

"Wait a minute!" Hermione said, clearly confused. "What do you want me to do? What is so dangerous?"

"It's not even possible for her to do anything at this time! You know as well as I do that it's missing—"

"There are plenty of them at the Ministry, Minerva. I'm sure they will be glad to oblige if they knew it would be used to save the wizarding world."

"Save the wizarding world!" Hermione shrieked. "What on earth are you two talking about! Ron!" She yelled, frightening him. "Ron! What on earth are they talking about?"

"I've no idea…" he said, flabbergasted.

"Fudge isn't going to give you another one and you know it, Albus!"

"But if it's to save the wizarding world, of course he'll loan me one."

"He'll think it's just a plot to get him sacked, he's completely paranoid of you."

"Then simply fetch me yours, Minerva."

"You know as well as I know that the time turner went missing months ago."

"Time turner?" Hermione asked. "You want me to use the time turner?"

"Precisely, Miss Granger." A smile appeared on Dumbledore's face.

"Albus! Don't start filling her head with nonsense before we know if it is even possible to go through with it!"

"Miss Granger, when Lily and James Potter were in their seventh year of Hogwarts—"

"I suggest you go to bed, Miss Granger." Hermione gave McGonagall a quizzical look. "Immediately." She added.

"Yes Professor…" Hermione got out of her chair and pulled Ron up, whom at that point was half asleep. She hurried out of the office and down the stairs into the main hallway.

Hermione stopped walking and turned to look at Ron. "Do you think you can make it back to the Common Room by yourself?"

"You're coming with me, aren't you?"

"I'm not. I'll meet you back in the Common Room."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me where you're going!"

"I'm going to the library to get my stuff—I left in such a rush when I… When I heard about Harry. I forgot my bag at the table I was at."

"I'll come with you."

"No. You can't."

"Why not?" Ron asked furiously. His face turned redder by the second.

"Because I want to be alone! This isn't easy for me to deal with!"

"Do you think it's easy for me either? Hermione, don't be so thick! You weren't his only friend you know!"

"Ron… I'm sorry. I—" The well sprung another leak as Hermione burst into tears. She sat down against the wall behind her and wrapped her arms around her knees. Ron sat down next to her and let his arm snake around her shoulders.

"Do you think I'm really going to let you wander around the castle by yourself? In the middle of the night? After Voldemort just killed Harry? What if he's still lurking around here?"

"I'm sorry—You can come with me. Keep your wand at the ready, I'll do the same."

Together they walked to the library; Ron's arm was still around Hermione. They walked to the back of the library with no problems, and faced no dangers on their way back to the Common Room.

"But starting tomorrow…" Hermione said softly to herself.

"What about tomorrow?" Ron asked.

"We're going to search for that time turner."


	5. The Vacationing Coordination

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** Hi everyone! I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I had knee surgery three weeks ago and I've been stressed from problems with my knee and I haven't had the heart to update. But now this next chapter is done! Enjoy! Please read and review—I LOVE to hear what you all think about my story!

Chapter Five: The Vacationing Coordination

Fred Weasley absentmindedly played with the gold necklace in his hand. He found it that morning in one of his secret hiding places around the school; he had nicked it in first year from Filch's office. It wasn't that he liked necklaces or had anyone in particular to give it to at the time, but it was the way Filch coveted it when he stole it from a Slytherin. It was the way his eyes widened and his frown faded into a smile when he grasped it in his hands. It was obviously important to Filch, which meant it had to be taken from him. Anything to bother the old bat.

George, who was sitting across from Fred in the Great Hall, noticed the necklace.

"What's that, Fred?" He asked quizzically.

"It's the necklace I stole from Filch in first year. I found it in the hole in the wall behind the loose brick."

"Which hole in the wall?" George tapped his fingers on the table, thinking hard. "We've made so many I don't know which one you're talking about."

"The one in the passageway that leads to Honeydukes cellar."

"Oh! That one! Yes, very good hiding place if I do say so myself. We're very good at what we do, Fred."

"Very good at what? Hiding stuff?"

"Precisely! We give You-Know-Who a run for his money!"

"Very true. We're so good that I myself forgot where this hiding place was."

George laughed. "Maybe we're _too_ good at this."

"Maybe, but we'll have to decide that another time. Right now I'd like to focus on figuring out what this does. I was in such a hurry to stash it after I nicked it—I didn't want him to catch me with it—that I stored it away and forgot all about it."

"Test it out tonight then. After dinner you can go back to the passageway and have a go with it."

"Not coming with me?" Fred asked, sticking out his bottom lip.

"Nope. This handsome devil has plans with Angelina Johnson." George winked.

"Ohhh, you _are_ a devil! Good luck with that." Fred wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Although I'll be honest; I'll miss our midnight rendezvous at the astronomy tower now that you have a new friend."

"It never would have worked out between us, Fred." Both boys began to laugh.

Until Hermione Granger walked into the Great Hall. Fred began to choke on his bacon when she entered the room with Ron at her side.

"Good Morning boys." She greeted quietly, sitting down beside Fred. Fred, who had finally stopped choking on his bacon, had not noticed Hermione sit down next to him or heard her greeting due to the food stuck in his throat. When he glanced over to see who was now next to him he nearly jumped out of his seat. His abrupt motion shook the table which knocked over his glass of orange juice and Hermione's fork onto the floor.

"Oops! Silly me, knocking over another glass."

George eyed Fred as he fluttered around to find napkins to clean up the juice. While he was wiping up the juice, he looked over at Hermione and, forgetting to swallow properly, began to choke on the bacon again. George couldn't help but laugh. What was this? Was Hermione Granger of all people making Fred… nervous? Oh this was just too good.

"Silly me. You frightened me Hermione, I didn't see you sit down next to me."

"Yes, silly Fred. He didn't notice you enter the hall either; his choking fit following your entrance was purely coincidence." George chimed in, grinning.

"I'd hope so! Otherwise I'd think I was a bad luck charm for him." Hermione said seriously.

"Not a bad luck charm, he's just allergic to you." George grinned again.

"George! Shut up—Fred is not allergic to Hermione!" Ron criticized.

"Of course not." George glanced underneath the table. "Hermione, you dropped your fork under the table."

"I hadn't even noticed, thanks George." She stuck her head below the table to reach for the fork, which was located next to Fred's foot. Her hand accidentally brushed up against his foot as she grabbed the fork, and Fred jumped, knocking over the new glass of orange juice he had poured.

"Yeah, definitely not an allergic reaction."

Fred glared at George while he cleaned up the juice. "My coordination just took the day off, that's all."

"It was here a few minutes ago Fred. I wonder what made it go away, do you know?"

Fred kicked his brother's shin underneath the table. George winced. "I'm not sure, George. Maybe we can figure it out _later_."

"Later indeed." George laughed and stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I've forgotten something in my room and must go get it. Oh, and Fred?"

"Yes?" Fred asked in an annoyed tone.

"Make sure to go see the nurse about those allergies, mate."

Hermione watched as George laughed his way out of the Great Hall. When she put her attention back on Fred, she noticed him take something out of his pocket. All she saw was a flash of gold enter his hands; whatever he was holding was hidden in his hands as he fiddled with it.

"What are you playing with?" She asked.

"This necklace I found a couple years ago."

"May I see it?"

"Sure."

As Fred handed Hermione the necklace she immediately recognized what it was. But… how did Fred get it? Did he know what it did? It didn't matter if he knew what it was; she had to have it.

"It's so pretty! Are you going to give it to anyone?"

"No, I was planning on wearing it myself."

"Hmm, well gold isn't your color." Hermione laughed.

"I don't know what you're talking about; I look fabulous in gold."

"I think it would look better on someone else."

"Like who?"

"Like… me."

Fred looked shocked. "You? Why would I give you the necklace?"

"Because it's very pretty, and you have no use for it." Hermione grabbed the necklace from Fred's grasp and held it tightly.

"And you do?"

"Yes, I do. I'd wear it everyday."

"Sorry Hermione, but I'll have to pass." Fred snatched the necklace from Hermione and put it in his pocket.

"Come on! Why not?" Hermione asked angrily; her body was tense and she looked ready to pounce on Fred and wrestle him for it.

"Because you seem to want it so badly."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "And that's why you won't give it to me?"

"Precisely." Fred grinned, stood up, and walked out of the Great Hall.

Hermione followed Fred around for the rest of the day. She lurked behind every corner, hid behind every column, and snuck into every room he went into. Not all of them of course, because stalking him in the bathroom would be more than inappropriate. She knew, however, that she needed to get the time turner away from him before the weekend was up; she couldn't ditch classes!

That day she had made many attempts to get her hands on the time turner…

Fred walked unsuspectingly down the hallways after breakfast. He was a little off his block after the several incidents involving bacon, but the meal was over and he could go hide out for the rest of the day with no Hermione in sight.

At least that's what he thought. Hermione hid behind a large stone pillar 100 yards back, contemplating how to steal the necklace from him. It was hard to think of ways to distract him, and when Hermione had almost given up Professor Flitwick walked around the corner. He was carrying a large stack of books; the stack towered over his head and it was a miracle he could see where he was going.

Professor Flitwick struggled down the hallway and the stack swayed back and forth in his small arms. The Professor's struggle was what set off the idea in Hermione's head. She watched closely, waiting until Fred crossed paths with Flitwick. When he did, she flicked her wand quickly and muttered a spell under her breath.

The stack of books flew out of Professor Flitwick's hands and bolted towards Fred, who at this point was only a few feet away from him.

"OY!" Fred hollered as twenty books hit him all over. The side of a book whapped him in the shin, while another flew towards him and landed right on his shoulder. The last few books hit him in the back of his knees, forcing him to topple to the ground.

"Oh no! Fred!" cried Professor Flitwick as he scurried to Fred's side. "Fred! Are you okay?"

"That hurt! What happened, did you trip?" Fred asked while rubbing his temples.

"I was just walking along. Oh well, this is a lot of books, they might have just decided to topple over."

"Yeah…" Fred muttered.

At that point Hermione felt it was time to move. She raced from behind the pillar to aid Fred and Professor Flitwick.

"Fred!" She yelled, jogging over to him. Fred, who had finally gotten back up on his feet, took a step backward in surprise, stepped on a book, and slipped backwards onto the floor again.

"Agh… Yes?" he asked while laying on his back.

"I saw what happened—are you alright?" She asked in a worried tone.

"I'm fine, but my shin hurts… the corner of one of his books hit me there."

"Poor guy, you're just having all sorts of accidents today, aren't you?"

Fred sighed and stayed on the floor. His back hurt from the fall and the rest of his body hurt from the books.

"Here, I'll help you up." Hermione said, extending both of her hands.

Fred raised his arms up so Hermione could help him to his feet. When she took his hands she uncurled the balls that his fists had made and examined each palm for the object she wanted. To her dismay, the necklace was in neither hand. She stared at his palms for a few seconds and let the disappointment fill her.

"You realize that I could have gotten up by myself already?" Fred asked in an annoyed tone.

"Yeah, sorry." Hermione said as she grabbed Fred's hands and pulled him up.

A jolt of electricity made it's way through both of their hands. Their gazes met as Fred's eyes leveled with hers, and they felt the feelings they had in the library the previous night. The sadness from Harry's death left their bodies as their faces came closer to one another…

"Ah! Hermione!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "I'm glad you're here. You can help me carry these books to my classroom while Mr. Weasley goes to the hospital wing to make sure he's alright."

Hermione looked from Fred to Professor Flitwick and sighed. "Yes professor…"

And so they parted; Fred hobbling to the hospital wing and Hermione carrying a large, very heavy set of books. Before she turned the corner Hermione looked back at Fred, and saw nothing but the dangling time turner hanging out of his pocket.

Fred had been to the hospital wing several times that afternoon. After multiple objects were mysteriously flung at him he decided that it was best if he found a place where there was nothing that could hit him. There was a hallway outside the Prefects' bathroom that was very rarely used; that was Fred's destination.

He was amazed that he managed to walk around four corners without being assaulted in some way or another. A stack of books did not fly towards his body; he didn't trip over a gnome that suddenly appeared in front of his feet. There were so many random occurrences that day…

Fred's ears were greeted by a clanging of metal as he neared his destination. Every few seconds a loud clang echoed through the hallway, as well as the loud voices of two men.

A suit of armor appeared from around a corner; he held a sword firmly in his hand and he jabbed it in front of him several times.

"Take that, you coward!" The suit of armor bellowed to his unseen partner.

"Coward? Coward! How dare you call me a coward!" The partner yelled back.

A second suit of armor came into view; he jumped at the other suit, howling and shouting obscene things to try and intimidate his partner. Their swords struck one another with amazing force, and the noises the clashing metal made was almost as loud as the two men's jeers.

Fred leaned against a wall and watched the duel. It was a rare occurrence to see suits of armor duel in Hogwarts. Normally they stood still against a wall, occasionally talking other suits and students. But rarely did they move around!

The suits of armor disappeared to where the had originally come from, and Fred was not far behind them. As he turned the corner to the other hallway, one of the suits of armor bolted backwards and knocked both Fred and himself over.

The suit regained his balance quickly and jumped to his feet. His stance was angry and he looked ready to pounce; he lifted his sword and pointed it at Fred's chest.

"Haven't you ever hear of a little thing called respect, boy?" The suit of armor bellowed.

Fred took a step back in surprise. "Yes I have, I'm sorry I interrupted your duel, sir. I was so interested in watching you fight. I was so excited to follow you and watch you duel that I didn't think that you might bolt around the corner again…"

"Well if you're so captivated in our duel, why don't you have a go!" The other suit of armor yelled.

"That's a good idea! Get over here and duel us, boy!"

"No, I don't have a sword!" Fred began to take a few steps backward.

"Then use your wand!" The suit of armor that had been knocked over lunged at Fred, who jumped backwards.

"I don't want to be a part of your duel!" Fred howled as he swiftly avoided a sword coming towards his head.

"Duel us! You're a wizard, you can handle two old suits of armor!" One of the suits yelled.

Fred sprinted down the hallway as fast as his legs could carry him; the suits of armor were close behind. He looked back to see where they were and jumped to the floor as a sword was jabbed at his head. He stuck his leg in the air, tripping the suit of armor and sending him sliding across the floor. Fred jumped up and sprinted back to where the duel began; he jumped over a sword coming towards his ankles as the other suit of armor swung at him with all his might.

There was a staircase at the end of the hallway where he had originally planned on going. If he could get to the staircase before the suits caught up with him he could jump up the stairs three steps at a time and lose them. He sprinted around the corner and his eyes saw the staircase 100 yards away from him. The staircase became closer and closer in Fred's vision.

He was nearly at the step when a ball was thrown at Fred's head and a handful of sticky balls were pelted at his legs. A sea of dungbombs fell from the ceiling; Fred tripped over them and landed flat on his face in the pile of bombs. He scrambled to turn around and see where the suits of armor were. Balls appeared at their hands as they pelted them at Fred, yelling at him to fight back.

The suits ran towards Fred, who dove in between their legs and ran away.

"Fight back you coward!" They both yelled from behind. "At least do _something_!"

"Fine!" Fred yelled as he spun around to face the suits. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the cupcake he had taken from the kitchens that morning. He pelted the cupcake across the hallway and watched as hit one of the suits square in the face.

The suit of armor wiped the pink frosting away from his helmet. He looked at the other suit. Both nodded their heads, and then slowly turned their heads to face Fred.

"Well, if that's how you want to play…" One of the suits said.

A dozen cupcakes appeared by each suit's hands; they thrusted their arms forward, which sent the cupcakes hurling toward Fred.

"Oh no! Not cupcakes! Anything but that!" Fred yelled out in a sarcastic tone. He stood still with his hands on his hips and stared down the suits.

Suddenly the atmosphere around him changed; and he smelled the strong scent of sugar. Before he could look up at the ceiling, thousands of cupcakes poured over him and knocked him over.

"Oy!" He yelled in annoyance as he tried to swim through the sea of cupcakes.

The suits of armor began to throw more cupcakes in his direction; even though he was completely covered in frosting. Fred managed to get out of the pile and attempted to run back to the staircase he had gotten so close to before. As he dodged the swinging swords and tried not to trip over the cupcakes that fell in front of his feet, he finally rounded the corner and once again saw the staircase. He scrambled towards it as if his life depended on it, and when he looked behind him he saw the suits of armor stumbling over the cupcakes and dung bombs.

Finally Fred reached the staircase! He lunged towards the first step; ready to use every ounce of energy he had to jump from that first step to the next. His right foot landed on the first step and he did not get the reaction that he wanted.

Fred's foot sunk into the step, his violent struggles only caused his entire leg to be engulfed by it.

"Damnit!" Fred yelled, who was spastically trying to get his leg out of the step. "Damnit!"

The suits of armor were only a few feet away from Fred when they both swung their swords at his head. Fred ducked and missed the swings, but the suits struck again. Their swords were about to hit him when a person appeared around the corner.

"IMMOBULUS!" Hermione Granger yelled as she pointed her wand at the two suits of armor. They were immediately frozen in their placealong with their swords, which were only an inch away from Fred's face.

"Christ almighty—Hermione! Thank god you're here! I almost got away from them but my leg got caught in this step!"

"Don't tell me you've never heard of the trick step!" Hermione laughed. "Fred, you're supposed to be the jokester around here!"

"Of course I've heard of it, I see Neville Longbottom accidentally stepping in it all the time." Fred retorted angrily.

"Well good job remembering it was there." Hermione laughed again.

"Will you just help me up!"

"Fine fine!" Hermione grabbed Fred's arms and yanked him upwards; Fred's leg was broken free from the trick step.

Clearly frazzled, Fred took a few steps away from the staircase, all the time staring worriedly at the step. His eyes bolted from side to side and his hands shook violently.

"Fred…" Hermione said quietly. "You look horrified. You're okay, they're immobilized, and you're not in the trick step anymore. Calm down, just calm down…"

Fred twitched a little. "I. I… I don't know what just happened. I've got to go." He said, and spun around on his heel and ran away from Hermione and the immobilized suits of armor.

"Fred!" Hermione yelled after him in a motherly, worried manner. "Fred! Come back!"

"I've got to get out of here!" Yelled the frazzled Fred, and he was soon out of Hermione's sight.

Hermione stood next to the trick step for a few minutes and then, with the flick of her wand, made the suits of armor mobile again. They put their swords back into their sheaths and walked over to the wall where they normally stood. With another flick of her wand the dungbombs and cupcakes disappeared from the floor and the frosting was cleaned from every wall, ceiling, and floor. The hallway was clean, and Hermione smiled as she looked a few yards in front of her. Laying on the floor was a small gold necklace.

She walked over to it and picked it up, holding it tightly in her hands. She put it into her pocket and turned to face the suits of armor.

"Did you get what you needed to get?" They both asked.

"I did—thanks guys." She said, smiling. "I couldn't have done it without you."

With her thanks in order, Hermione took the necklace out of her pocket and put it around her neck. She fiddled with the centerpiece of the necklace, and after thanking the suits of armor one more time…

She vanished into thin air.

Fred scrambled to the Gryffindor Common room. He was desperate to get to a bathroom and take a shower as his whole body was pink from frosting. As he entered the common room all conversation stopped and all eyes were on him.

George stood up from the couch he was sitting on, only to fall to the floor from hysterical laughter.

"Look… At… You!" He gasped in between heaves of laughter. "Ha! What the bloody hell happened to you!"

"Suits of armor…" Fred muttered spastically. "Cupcakes… Dungbombs and sticky balls…"

"You look like a cream puff!" George sobbed with laughter. He held onto his sides as if they were going to fall apart.

"So many cupcakes… So much tripping, so many accidents. So much sugar…" Fred grabbed his head with his hands.

"Do you have any idea what you look like?" George asked through the laughter.

Fred walked over to the mirror on the wall. His body was covered from head to toe with pink frosting; the frosting was an inch thick all over. Some of the plastic balls were stuck on Fred's butt, and a dungbomb was entangled in his hair. His face was covered in cupcake crumbs.

"I think the frosting machine exploded on you, mate." George managed to say with a straight face, only to return to the floor a second later from laughing.

"Oh bugger off…" Fred retorted, and slumped up the stairs towards the bathroom.

After Fred had taken a shower and had changed into his pajamas he went back into the bathroom to go clean his pink, sugary clothes. He reached into his pockets to get anything of value out before he got the clothes wet, and suddenly his face turned from it's normal expression to one of panic. Fred searched through his pockets and pulled them inside out. He looked in his socks, in his underwear, and in his shirt, but it was nowhere in sight.

The necklace was gone.


	6. Disappearing Act

It was late in the Gryffindor common room

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and never will.

**Author's Note:** This update was much quicker than the last one, so you all should be proud of me. It isn't the most action packed chapter, but sometimes there has to be filler in between the adventurous parts. I figure you guys would rather read updates (even if they're filler) than have to wait two months for a damn long chapter with both filler and adventure! Am I right? Please read and review!

Chapter Six: Disappearing Act

I "Have you seen Hermione?" Fred asked Ginny as she made her way down the steps from the Girls' Dormitory.

"Nope." Ginny replied sleepily.

Fred Weasley sat in the common room while his fellow Gryffindors made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He was waiting for someone in particular. A certain bushy haired girl who had undoubtedly tried to have him killed in order to steal something from him. He waited for her until at least twenty minutes after breakfast began and there was still no sign of her. Clearly, she was not going to walk out of the Girls' Dormitory. Perhaps she had already left?

Knowing Hermione, she might have gone to the library to do an unnecessary amount of studying in her irrational fear that she wouldn't be able to answer every single question correctly on the next exam. Fred waited a few more minutes and then promptly made his way to the Great Hall. If she wasn't there, then he'd make his way to the library.

To his dismay, when Fred opened the doors to the Great Hall he saw no sign of Hermione. He walked from one end of the table to the other, scanning each Gryffindor's face to make sure she wasn't in disguise. Clearly disappointed, he made his way over to the library.

But she wasn't in the library, either. Fred had asked the librarian if she had shown up earlier, but the answer was no.

"That's weird…" Fred said to himself as he exited the library. "If she isn't eating, and she isn't in the library… Where could she be?"

Where did Hermione used to go with Ron and Harry on the weekends? Fred had a hard time thinking of places to look for Hermione, as he was never very close to the trio. It was only until recently when he started to come into contact with the group more often.

A light bulb went off in Fred's head. He had seen them sitting out by the lake when they were in third year.

When Fred reached the lake he did not find Hermione sitting under a tree reading a book. She was nowhere to be found outside, and nowhere to be found inside.

Fred went back into the Great Hall and sat down beside Ron.

"Morning Ron."

"Hey Fred."

"Where's Hermione?"

Ron's ears turned a deep shade of crimson from the nervousness that was quickly filling him up inside.

"What do you want with her?" He asked nervously.

"Nothing, I just wondered why she isn't with you."

"Why… Why would she be with me?" Ron stuttered.

"Because she's your best friend…?"

"Right."

"And I'd imagine she'd want to be with someone she loves after all that has happened."

"Yeah…"

Fred watched as Ron hurriedly ate the rest of his breakfast. After scarfing down his omelet he jumped out of his seat and walked unusually fast out of the Great Hall.

"I gotta' go—bye Fred!" Ron yelled over his shoulder as his walk turned into a sprint.

Fred was baffled. How did Ron not know where Hermione was? But the way he was acting… He must have known where she was and just didn't want to say anything. Did he help her plot to steal the necklace away from Fred?

Fred slowly ate his breakfast; his mind was not focused on food. He walked around helplessly for the rest of the day, looking for and having no luck finding her.

Fred sighed to himself from a mixture of confusion and worry.

Where was Hermione?

* * *

Hermione snuck through the halls of Hogwarts. It was late at night, and she didn't belong there. If she was found, she could ruin the future!

The halls looked similar to Hermione as she looked around at her surroundings. Actually, they looked exactly the same. The pillars were still in tact, the floors were still the same. The same two suits of armor that had dueled Fred sat in their designated spot against the wall.

Fred. She sighed as she thought of how angry he must be with her. She almost had him killed in order to steal the time turner away from him. But he'd forgive her, right?

After looking around awhile, Hermione went back to the trick step where she had originally arrived at. She sat above the trick step and sighed as she put her hands on her cheeks. For once in her life she hadn't thought something through before she did it.

It was probably because she knew Fred would steal back the necklace the next day if she was still in the same time period. She had to get back into the past without any complications, and it was the only way.

Fred. She sighed again.

Hermione had to find a place to sleep for the night. She didn't know where any of the secret passages were, so she couldn't go hide in one of them. Where could she go? She could probably pose as a new student or a visitor in the morning, but what was she supposed to do in the mean time? She needed a good night's rest in order to think everything through.

Hermione got up from the trick step and began walking up the steps. When she was halfway up she heard voices coming from the top of the staircase.

"Ouch! That was my foot you oaf!" A boy whispered angrily. Hermione froze in her tracks.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Said another boy apologetically. His voice was weak.

"Just keep moving!" A different voice criticized.

Hermione raced down the steps as quietly as she could. She jumped over the trick step and hid behind a suit of armor, hoping the passersby wouldn't be able to see her. The suit was, after all, seven feet tall and five feet wide.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor as people came down the stairs. However, Hermione could not see them.

"An invisibility cloak?" Hermione thought to herself. "Who could it be?"

The footsteps walked past the suit of armor. When Hermione thought she was safe, she let out a sigh of relief, only to cover her mouth immediately because it was much louder than expected. The footsteps stopped as she cursed herself in her head.

"Well well well… Look her boys!" Said the voice whose foot was stepped on. "It looks like we have someone spying on us again."

"We can't have that, now can we?" Replied the critical voice from before

The footsteps made their way towards Hermione. She became more and more afraid as they drew nearer. She knew they were there, but the fact that she couldn't see them frightened her beyond all belief. The footsteps came closer and closer. Closer…

Hermione could hear the people breathing right in front of her from underneath the invisibility cloak. She watched helplessly in front of her and waited for someone to pop out.

Suddenly the cloak was ripped off, and four boys appeared in front of her. Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin from the panic it instilled upon her. She backed up into the wall and looked at each boy in fear. Who were they? Were they going to turn her in? Were they—

Hermione's thoughts disappeared as she looked at the tallest boy of the group. His untidy black hair, his thin face, and his hazel eyes. It was almost as if she was staring at…

"Harry…?" She asked.

"Harry?" replied the shortest boy of the group. Hermione instantly recognized him as the apologetic boy from before. "Who is Harry?"

"_He's_ Harry." Hermione said as she pointed towards the tallest boy.

A boy with light brown hair spoke next.

"I can assure you, miss, that this is not this 'Harry' person you keep speaking of."

"Then who is he?" Hermione asked, still staring at the tallest boy.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you; we hardly know you!"

"You _hardly_ know me? You don't know me at _all_!" Hermione retorted.

"Exactly, now why should I tell you his name?"

"Because I need to know—"

"One of his secret admirers, eh? Too late. He's got plenty of those."

"It's not that." Hermione said in an annoyed tone. "I need to know his name. He looks just like…"

"Harry, we know." Replied the boy with the light brown hair.

The tallest boy walked in front of his three friends. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, smiled, and extended his hand to Hermione.

"Hi, I'm James Potter."

If Hermione wasn't worried about ruining the future when she first arrived, she sure as hell was now.


	7. An Innocent Request

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** All I can say is: It's been way too long since I've updated. I lost focus for awhile, but I'm back on track. I promise I won't abandon this story—even if it takes a long time to write. When it comes to certain parts of this chapter I advise you to not jump to conclusions.

Chapter Seven: An Innocent Request

"James Potter?" Hermione asked.

"You're looking at him!"

"_The_ James Potter?" She stumbled for a moment.

"You make him sound like a legend." The sandy haired boy interjected.

"Well I _am_ a legend, Mooney." The sandy-haired boy rolled his eyes.

"Mooney?" Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh my god—Professor Lupin!"

"Professor? Ha! Does he look like a professor to you?" James asked through a laugh.

"No… He just reminds me of someone I know." Hermione stammered.

"Well at any rate, you got the Lupin part right." The sandy haired boy said as he stuck out his hand. "I'm Remus Lupin."

Hermione shook Lupin's hand without blinking. "Hi Remus. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. This is Sirius, and over there is Peter."

Hermione looked at Sirius, who was standing behind James. He had gray eyes and dark, shaggy hair that gracefully fell over his eyes. He was quiet, calm, and had an air of unseen elegance. Her eyes then fell on Peter Pettigrew, and once she saw his rat like face she was filled with anger. She fought her violent urge to curse him.

"Hi Sirius. Hi… Peter." She grimaced at his name.

A silence filled the corridor as Hermione fought her growing anger towards Peter. No words came out of her mouth; she stood quietly as everyone around her did the same. Finally, the silence was broken.

"So what house are you in? I've never see you before." James asked.

"I'm actually a visitor here. I just arrived and I'm looking for a place to stay. I was thinking of staying hidden—you know, out of people's way."

Four sets of eyebrows rose.

"Why would you want to hide if you're a visitor?" Remus asked.

"Well… I actually am here because I…"

"Yes?" Sirius asked.

"I need a place to stay, and it can't be known that I'm around. I'm assuming that four boys—four handsome boys such as yourselves—" James and Sirius grinned and ran their hands through their hair. "Can help me out..."

Remus laughed. "Why do you think we can help you? We're just walking around; we could be Prefects and are waiting to rat you out."

"You're right, because Prefects walk around under invisibility cloaks."

There was a silence as Hermione and Remus stared each other down, trying to think of something to say.

"Guys," James interrupted, "Why don't you go up to the common room. I'll take care of—what was your name?"

"Hermione."

"Okay. Guys, go."

The group, especially a skeptical Remus, stared at James. They weren't going to budge. James continued to push. "Guys, go—I got this."

Sighing, all three boys turned around and headed off up the staircase. Hermione could hear Remus grumbling as he walked away.

"You shouldn't trust some random girl who appears in the middle of the night—even if she is pretty."

"That's always been his problem." Sirius pitched in.

"Yeah, definitely." Peter added.

"Shut up, Peter." Sirius and Remus said in unison. Peter sighed and slumped the rest of the way up the stairs.

"What exactly are you doing here?" James asked as soon as the other boys are clear.

"It's nothing important, really." Yeah. Just saving your son's life.

"Very unspecific answer. I can't help you unless you tell me why you're here."

"Come one, why don't you help me out?"

"You could be a fugitive, first of all. You could have escaped from Azkaban and are here to kill me."

"That's ridiculous—you know no one has ever escaped from Azkaban..."

"That's aside the point. What are you doing here?"

"You really want to know?"

"No, I want a lie—yes I want the truth!"

Hermione knew that she had to think of something quickly. She had to tell James something to convince him… but what could she say? The truth? That might actually work…

"I actually come from the future."

James laughed. "Are you serious? You can't be serious—you're crazy!"

"I'm not. I really come from the future."

"Yeah, okay. Well, you're officially crazy and I try not to hang out with crazy people. What do you want?"

"I need a place to hide out. I can't be seen or I might mess up the future."

"Well then you've already screwed yourself over, haven't you?"

"Please, James? I'll stay out of your way. I just need a place to sleep where no one will see me."

James stood silent for a few minutes. He ran his hands through his hair a few times and finally spoke out.

"Have you had a boyfriend?"

Hermione was taken aback. "What?" She asked in utter confusion.

"Have you had a boyfriend?"

"What does that have to do with anything…?"

James responded quickly. "Have you had a boyfriend?" His voice was annoyed.

"Uhh.. Kind of…"

"So you know what boys have to do to get close to you?"

"Uhh… Sure?"

James smiled and approached Hermione, who stepped back a few steps. He put his arm around her shoulders.

"Okay, I'll help you. But on one condition."

"What's that?"

"I need you to help me with something."

"I got that part. What do you need me to do?"

"It's just a simple, innocent request."

"Okay… What is it?"

"Kiss me."


	8. Pangs of Incest

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own James Potter, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** I bet you're as surprised as I am about how quickly I updated. Please R&R I appreciate every review I get! It really makes my day.

Chapter Eight: Pangs of Incest

Hermione woke up the next morning on a cold stone floor. Her entire body was sore from the uncomfortable few hours of sleep that she had gotten the previous night. She felt a combination of stress and worry; she was stressed about the fact that she had been in the past for only five minutes and she had already been seen by the people who she really didn't want to run into. She was worried because she was somewhere she'd never been to before. She was sitting in a long, dark hallway that made eerie noises, and she had woken up many times throughout the night thinking she heard a rat.

James had led her to the passageway after the end of their awkward conversation.

"Kiss me." He had requested. What was Hermione supposed to do? She did the only thing that her body would allow. Hermione stood silent for quite awhile until James realized that he wasn't going to get an answer from her anytime soon. He must have figured it was a good idea to get Hermione safely out of sight. Waiting for her to respond all night in the corridor would only result in her getting caught and sent back to wherever she came from. It was wise to hide her and ask her at another time.

Hermione was confused on what to do about James. What was she supposed to do: kiss him? Why would she do that? Why would James ask her to do that? It was wrong on so many levels. It was like kissing her father. James wasn't Hermione's father, obviously, but he was Harry's father, and that was close enough to incest to make her uncomfortable. In any case, there was no way that Hermione was going to kiss James. She would be back in the future soon enough, and why would she kiss James when Fred was waiting for her back home?

Oh no… Fred. Hermione's head felt dizzy with guilt. What must he be thinking right now? Was he angry with her? Was he worried about her? Was he searching the school trying to figure out where she went? Did he even care at all? Hermione was so confused about the whole ordeal with Fred. Her mind kept racing back to the library. He had almost kissed her…

Her thoughts were interrupted when Hermione heard footsteps coming from the end of the hallway. One of the ends, at least. There were two of them. She couldn't remember which way was the way to the main hallway. Could this be someone aside from James? Could it be Filch? Or could it be… a rat? Hermione shuddered at the thought.

Whatever it was, it was coming closer.

* * *

Fred was in a panic. He hadn't slept in two days, and his mind was racing constantly. Where was Hermione? He had interrogated every Gryffindor. He threatened to hex every Slytherin he saw; he was afraid they might have played a cruel joke on her and hid her in the Forbidden Forest. He would have gone into the forest to look for her if George wasn't so busy with Angelina all of a sudden. In any case, he certainly wasn't going in alone.

If Hermione didn't show up within the next day, Fred had decided to go to Dumbledore and tell him about the disappearance. Dumbledore would probably know what was going on. But then again… if he did know what was going on, then wouldn't he have called Fred into his office to explain to him the situation? Dumbledore had seen Fred running around the school several times; he would have put Fred out of his misery if he knew.

Fred was sitting anxiously in the Great Hall when Ron entered the room. He watched as Ron sat down next to Dean and Seamus and began to shovel food into his mouth. Their conversation seemed to be fairly lighthearted considering the love of Fred's—Er, Ron's—life had gone missing.

"_Yeah, well, you're not the only one that loves her_." Fred thought to himself. He had to slap himself internally at the thought. He wasn't in love with Hermione! He certainly wasn't in love with her. After all that she had done to him! She had stolen his necklace! She had disappeared without telling him where she had gone! He refused to love anyone who treated him in such a way. Absolutely refused to love Hermione and her big messy curls. Her big brown eyes. Her cute know-it-all grin. Her—

"_Oh this is ridiculous!" _Fred yelled at himself inside. Maybe he did like her a bit. A wee bit. A tiny bit. An insignificant amount. Yeah.

However, when he turned back to see Ron laughing at the breakfast table, his feelings changed. At least he cared that she was missing. Ron turned his head to his left and saw a crazy Fred staring at him. Fred's eyes were large and puffy, like he had too much caffeine. His hands were shaking, and he had a wild look in his eyes like he would attack anything that came near him. As soon as Ron saw Fred staring at him, he choked on his food. After quizzical looks from everyone in the Great Hall, Ron bolted out the door, with Fred trailing close behind.

"Ron!" Fred yelled as he chased after his brother.

"Leave me alone!" Ron squealed.

"Come back! We need to talk!"

"No we don't! Go away!"

Ron ran clear out of the building. He ran through the front doors of the castle and out onto the grass that surrounded the place. Eventually Ron noticed that Fred hadn't been yelling at him for a few seconds. He assumed that he had lost him and turned around to see if Fred was anywhere in sight. When he turned around he found Fred, who had summoned his broom and snuck up behind Ron, pushing him to the ground. The two began to wrestle and shout at each other.

"Where is she!?" Fred demanded while pulling Ron's ear.

"Ow! Ow ow! I don't know where she is!"

"Yes you do! You're her best friend!"

"I don't know where she is!"

"Yes you do!"

"Where is she, Ron? What happened to her?"

"I don't know!"

"Yes you do! What did you do to her!?"

Ron was insulted at the insinuation. "Why do you even want to know?! It's not like she's your girlfriend or anything!"

Fred stopped dead in his tracks. Ron had unknowingly hit the nail right on the head. Fred stared at his brother for what seemed like ages, although in reality it was only a few seconds. It was, however, enough time for Ron to shove Fred off of him and get on to his feet.

"What—you're all done fighting now? Why so soon? You had no problem chasing me around the castle a few moments ago!"

Fred lay dazed on the grass. Hermione… She wasn't his girlfriend. She wasn't his anything. All she was… gone.

"Ron, please… Where is she?"

"Why do you care! You never cared about her before! Why do you give a damn now! Huh? Why!" Ron was turning bright red.

"I'm not sure…" Fred said.

The two were silent. Fred was in a trance. Eventually, he stood up. He summoned his broom, hopped on, and flew as fast and as far away from Ron as he could.

* * *

The footsteps were getting loud as Hermione hid in the shadows. She was so terrified of whatever was coming toward her. If only she could illuminate the hallway…

Hermione slapped herself on the forehead. Duh!

"Lumos!" she whispered with the flick of her wand, and the hallway was struck with a sudden burst of light. Amidst the former darkness was James.

"James! You scared me half to death—what were you thinking, sneaking up on me like that!"

James looked perplexed. "Sorry, I figured you'd be asleep. I didn't want to wake you up."

"I figured you'd want to stay away from me. You know, after last night…" Hermione blushed. Why? Why did she have to bring it up! It was so embarrassing. Here it goes again; she was talking about kissing with James Potter. The pangs of incest made her gag reflex start.

"Have you given any thought to what I asked you to do?"

Hermione sighed. "Are you going to turn me in if I don't… do that?"

"Do what?" James smiled playfully.

"You know. That."

"Come on, say it!"

"No!"

"Then I guess I'll have to turn you in!"

"Fine! Kiss you! Are you going to turn me in if I don't kiss you?"

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

"James, stop being an ass. Are you going to turn me in?"

"Depends on if you help me out."

"Well I have a problem with you demanding that I kiss you! I've known you for less than 24 hours and you're demanding that I let you touch my lips with your own! For all I know you could have a disease! Or poisonous lips! And you're certainly not my type!"

James was offended. "Woah, woah, WOAH! I _am_ your type! James Potter is _everyone's_ type! If I'm not your type than you're not a girl!"

"Oh I'm glad this conversation has stayed mature! I don't get you! You're so full of yourself that you demand that I kiss you! You can't honestly think you're _that_ smooth! I don't even like you!"

"Well it's a good thing I don't like you either, then!"

"And another thing! I—" Hermione stopped to register the last comment James made. "Wait, you don't like me?"

"Not in that way, doll."

"But you asked me to kiss you!"

"Not because I want you. I'm trying to accomplish something."

"What? What could you possibly accomplish by kissing a stranger in a secret hallway? Is this a bet between you and your friends?"

"I wouldn't kiss you in here."

Hermione couldn't say anything; she was too confused.

"I'd kiss you in public."

"Why would you do that? Unless…" At that moment, Hermione put all of the pieces together. She looked at James for confirmation.

"Unless you're trying to make someone jealous."

* * *

James had come in to check on Hermione very early in the morning. He continued to visit her every few hours, each time bring a new snack with him. He had ordered Peter to go into the kitchens and steal bits and pieces of every meal; Peter gladly obeyed orders. He desperately wanted to be accepted and would do anything he could to make James and the others happy.

Hermione decided that she would come out the next day. She agreed to pose as a new student, and James was to try and woo her in front of his crush. It was obvious who it was. James had liked Lily ever since their first year at Hogwarts. Was Hermione supposed to meddle in their affairs? Was she supposed to stay out of it, or was she the very reason they got together in the first place?

When James was away at his classes Hermione mainly thought of Fred. She needed a way to contact him—but how would she do that? She was in the past, and he was in the future. They could be inches apart in the castle, but the years between them stopped them from realizing how close they were. Hermione sat in this secret passageway alone. For all she knew, Fred could be sitting in the same passageway in the future. Hermione jolted out of her thoughts. That's it!

When James returned in the evening with Hermione's dinner, she happily gobbled it down. As soon as she finished the meal, she asked James what she desperately wanted to know.

"James?" she asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah?"

"Where exactly am I?" She knew exactly where she was.

"You're in one of the secret passageways of Hogwarts. This particular one leads to Honeydukes cellar."

"Really? That's interesting. Do many people know about it?"

"Ha! No, not many people do. You have to be a real deviant to know your way around these tunnels."

"So you'd have to be a prankster, like you?"

"Pretty much."

As soon as she got out of this passageway, Hermione was going to contact the only person who would be able to find her message. Fred. Possibly George, but mostly Fred. She just needed to find something to write with.


	9. Allergic Reaction

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own James Potter, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** Woo! Another update! I suddenly got really inspired and really excited and I'm going in another direction with the story! Well, I'm still going to stick with the original plot but there are now more parts! Woo! Please R&R I appreciate every review I get! It really makes my day. By the way, this is my favorite chapter ever! I had a blast writing it, and it's eventful! VERY eventful!

Chapter Nine: Allergic Reaction

Hermione was an absolute wreck. She barely slept a wink the entire night; she was too busy tossing and turning and thinking about the mess she had gotten herself into. It was a bit more comfortable than the previous night, however, because James had brought her a pillow and bunch of blankets to use as a mattress. Although it was more comfortable physically, it was terribly uncomfortable mentally.

She decided that she would sleep better if she illuminated the corridor. That way she would be able to tell if the noises she heard were real or if they were just a figment of her imagination. Most of them weren't real.

When James arrived to lead her out into the real world, carrying the invisibility cloak, she nearly died from a combination of excitement and nervousness.

"Are you ready?" James asked nervously.

Hermione picked up on his feelings right away.

"James, why are you nervous?"

"What if she doesn't like me?"

"Don't you think it's clear that she doesn't like you already? I mean, she's not with you…"

"Oh Hermione, that's so cute. _Every_ girl wants me. Most of them won't admit it, but the sight of me and my gorgeous presence makes every girl swoon. She totally wants me, she just won't admit it."

"Okay… Then why are you worried?"

"Because she doesn't snatch any of the bait I dangle in front of her. She swims away in disgust, and I'm running out of bait."

Hermione laughed. What was this? The so-called cool, calm, and collected James Potter was doubting himself?

"Oh James, relax. Just tell me what I have to do, and I'll do it—actually I take that back. I _might_ do it."

"Come into the Great Hall with me for breakfast. Sit next to me, and laugh at what I say. But don't make it obvious, obviously. You can't notice her at all, or she'll know that it's just a ploy for her attention. Be calm!" James said, sweat collecting on his forehead."

Hermione laughed again. "I think you should follow your own advice."

James led her down the corridor. When they reached the exit, he pulled the invisibility cloak over them and led them to a deserted hallway outside the Great Hall. With the flick of his wand a brick in the wall disappeared and he stowed the invisibility cloak behind it. With another flick of his wand he put the brick back in its rightful place. He took a deep breath, and walked towards the Great Hall.

"Are you ready?" James asked quietly.

"Are you?"

James opened the door to the Great Hall and led Hermione to their seats at the Gryffindor table. Every girl stared as James and Hermione walked passed them.

"Whose that?" Hermione heard a Ravenclaw ask the girl next to her.

"I'm not sure. I've never seen her before." The girl replied.

Hermione felt awkward from all of the whispering. She knew that she had drawn the attention of every single girl in Hogwarts, and a lot of the boys' attention as well. If any of these people lived through Voldemort's rein and saw her in the future… she was dead. This was the dumbest thing she had ever done. She was messing with things that she shouldn't be messing with, and the guilt of it all made her want to throw up.

The short walk to the Gryffindor table felt like ages. In those few seconds, she had quickly adapted and learned to tune out everything. However, she lost her concentration long enough to hear two Gryffindors talking.

"It looks like you've been replaced, hun."

The other Gryffindor scoffed. "Shut up."

Hermione saw in the corner of her eye that it was none other than Lily Evans. She could feel her cold stare and her menacing glance; this was not going to be fun.

* * *

Another day had gone by, and Fred was miserable. What the bloody hell was going on?

It didn't help that he had single handedly frightened every Gryffindor away from him. After he chased Ron out of the Great Hall looking like a crazed axe murderer, no one really wanted to sit next to him. George didn't mind, claiming that Fred always looked like that, and neither did Angelina, but everyone else steered clear of him. He clearly needed to watch what he did in public. If Hermione had disappeared forever he would need to keep the friends he had to comfort him.

That morning Fred sat in the Great Hall silently. He slowly ate his hashbrowns, letting his eyes blur over so that he didn't have to see anyone around him. He looked so dismal and out of character, and everyone noticed. Even Sir Nicholas, who had entered through the wall adjacent to the Gryffindor table. He immediately saw Fred moping and decided to try and cheer him up.

"Good Morning Mr. Weasley!" Sir Nicholas said cheerily while detaching his head from his neck. Fred has always enjoyed seeing this display, and Sir Nicholas was worried when he didn't get a reaction out of the rambunctious red-head.

"Good Morning Nick." Fred replied quietly.

"What is troubling you, kid? I've never seen you look like this, and I've known you for quite a time."

"I'm confused. That's all."

"What is confusing you? I might be able to assist you, you know. I'm a ghost, which means I know a lot about everything!"

"Someone has gone missing… And I don't know what to do. I don't know how to find the person, and I'm worried that there is something really wrong. This person hasn't been around in quite awhile…"

"Hmm. I can see the problem. It's never fun when someone you care about has gone missing."

"I wouldn't say I care about the person." Fred snapped. "She hasn't been very honest with me lately."

"Oh, it's a girl! Mr. Weasley, may I offer some advice?"

"Sure, why not. My day couldn't get any worse, so you might as well take a stab at it."

"In all of my years of living," Sir Nicholas scratched his head. "And, well… UN-living, I have learned some important lessons."

Fred waited silently for Sir Nicholas to continue.

"I've found that when a man looks this troubled, and acts this out of character for a girl, he cares for her a great deal more than he'd like to admit."

"Okay." Fred replied grumpily.

"Might I ask who you're looking for?"

"You can always ask. You just won't get an answer."

"Troublesome young boy, aren't you? I can't help you if you remain stubborn. Lets see… What Gryffindor has been absent lately?"

After a few moments thought, it finally registered in Sir Nicholas's mind.

"Ah, yes! Ms. Granger has been curiously absent for quite some time now. I wonder what—"

Sir Nicholas quickly ended his sentence and floated in midair for awhile. Fred was confused about why he had stopped talking. He looked like he was in deep concentration, and after a few minutes, he finally spoke again.

"When I was a young boy, my Mother got very angry with me, Mr. Weasley."

"That's nice…" Fred said, waiting for more. "Why was she angry with you?"

"Because I couldn't eat any of her cooking."

At this, Fred laughed. "Is that why you died? Your mother got so angry that you couldn't eat her food that she tried to slice your head off?"

"I won't say that she didn't try occasionally, but no, that's not how I died."

"Well, alright then. What are you trying to say? That you'll eat _my_ cooking? Because I'll have you know, I'm a terrible cook."

"No, no. Nothing of the sort. The reason I couldn't eat her cooking was b/c she put pepper in everything we ate. You see Mr. Weasley, she had an addiction to spicy foods. She quickly found that I was allergic to pepper. As soon as I would take a bite out of her cooking I would begin to have a sneezing fit. Sometimes it only lasted a few days, but most of the time it lasted hours. She refused to stop using pepper, so I spent most of my time sneezing. I probably sneezed a hole out of my stomach."

"So you… sneezed your head off?"

"No, Mr. Weasley. That is beside the point."

"Then what is your point, Nick? Breakfast is almost over."

"The point, Mr. Weasley…" Sir Nicholas said as he floated closer to Fred. "The point is, there is pepper on the hashbrowns that you are eating. I wonder; I haven't been around pepper since I died. I wonder if it might have the same effect on me now that I am dead?"

With his final words Sir Nicholas floated as close as he could to the hashbrowns on Fred's plate. He put his ghostly nose up as close as he could to the plate and took a long, deep breath. Sure enough, a few seconds later he began to sneeze uncontrollably. As strange as it was to watch a ghost sneeze out of control, there was an even stranger thing that happened every time Sir Nicholas sneezed.

At first Fred watched in amusement until he noticed what was happening in Sir Nicholas's stomach. When he would sneeze, a giant hole would appear in the middle of his gut. However, this was not an ordinary hole. During the first few times that the hole appeared, Fred could have sworn that he saw heads coming out of the stomach.

At a closer look, Fred realized that he was seeing the Great Hall through his gut. But not the current Great Hall, with George and Angelina and himself. This was a different Great Hall… An older version of it. Nearly Headless Nick began to spin in circles, causing Fred's view of the old Great Hall to change. He saw different Gryffindors, different Slytherins, different Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He saw… wait!

He saw a bushy bundle of dirty blonde curls. Frizzy curls. Could it possibly be? Fred kept trying to get a closer look at the girl, but he wasn't sure that it was her. Until of course, Sir Nicholas abruptly stopped spinning around and gave Fred a perfect view of the curly haired girl. It was her. It was Hermione! He stared at her for the longest time; she was alright!

"Hermione!" he yelled through Sir Nicholas's gut. The girl turned her attention from the boy next to her to Fred. Her eyes widened in disbelief and her jaw fell to the floor.

"Fred!" She yelled back at Fred, their eyes locked, gazing at each other in astonishment.

Fred was so ecstatic to see that Hermione was alright. He was so excited, in fact, that he couldn't even move. Could he pull her through Nick's stomach?

Hermione didn't look as happy to see Fred. Fred wondered why she looked so confused and upset. It wasn't until that moment that he saw an arm around Hermione's waist, and a boy's lips attached to her neck. That wasn't her arm. Those weren't her lips. They belonged to the boy next to her, who gazed at her with stars in his eyes and looked like a puppy dog in love with its master. Fred's face quickly turned from excited to disgusted.

By the time everything had registered in his mind Sir Nicholas had stopped sneezing. The hole was gone. Fred's view of Hermione had vanished.

"Well, I think I've had enough pepper for today, and from the looks of it, so have you." Sir Nicholas said. "Maybe in a day or two I'll try it again. The allergy might wear off in a few days, right?"

"Right…" Fred said, dazed.

"I'll only do it if you want me to. Only if you want to witness another allergic reaction."

"I think I've seen enough."

"As you wish. Have a good day, Mr. Weasley."

"You too, Nick."

As Sir Nicholas floated out of the Great Hall, Fred went through a range of emotions. The first, and most powerful emotion was his complete and utter disgust. She was with a boy—who looked quite familiar, by the way—and he had his arm around her.

Whatever game Hermione was playing, Fred wanted out of it immediately.

* * *

When Hermione and James finally sat down at the Gryffindor table, Hermione could see that the plan was already working. In the corner of her eye she saw Lily Evans trembling in anger, with her friends all trying to calm her down.

"It's working." James whispered too closely into her ear.

"I can see that." Hermione replied, giggling and smiling slightly for the effect. She could hear Lily grumbling from the other end of the table.

Throughout the rest of the meal Hermione and James put on a serious show for the room. The girls were looking at the two of them because they wanted to kill the new girl that captured all of James's attention. The boys were looking at the two of them because they wanted to know who this new girl was, and if they could have a chance with her. The teachers were looking at the two of them because they had no idea who the hell she was. Dumbledore snickered at the sight of her and continued to eat his hashbrowns.

Remus, Sirius, and Peter came into the Great Hall 10 minutes before breakfast was over. When they saw Hermione sitting next to James, they were all very confused. Remus was more angry than confused.

"What happened to, 'Oh I just need to stay out of sight guys!'? Hmmm?" Remus asked, clearly grumpy.

"Look who got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." James replied. "Too much moonlight for you last night, eh Mooney?"

Hermione laughed. So they knew about him being a wearwolf too.

"What are you laughing at?" Remus snapped. "You're supposed to be out of sight and out of mind."

"I'm just having breakfast." Hermione defended.

Remus and the other boys sat down at the table. Sirius was absentmindedly messing up his already messy hair, Remus was staring at Hermione and James, and Peter was putting food onto everyone's plate.

"Wormtail, I forgot my Herbology homework in my room. Go get it for me, will you?" Sirius half asked, half demanded.

"Yes Padfoot!" Peter responded excitedly, and ran out of the Great Hall.

James watched Peter scurry out of the room. While he was turning his attention back to Hermione, he caught a glimpse of an angry Lily. He grinned like an idiot in satisfaction. He put his arm around Hermione's waist. This seemed to have surprised Hermione more than it did Lily, because she jumped a little in her seat. Lily grumbled again, this time a little louder.

James was so utterly satisfied with himself that he decided to push a little bit farther. He kissed Hermione's neck, right under her jawbone. Hermione admitted that it felt very nice, but probably because she was imagining that it was Fred who was kissing her instead of James.

At this point Lily was practically growling from her seat. She was like an angry tiger, and her friends were trying to restrain her. Hermione could feel James smile as he kissed her neck; he could obviously hear Lily's reaction.

His fun was interrupted when Nearly Headless Nick came to the table and floated silently across from Hermione and James. He started to spin in circles, which Hermione thought was very strange. She wasn't really paying attention; she was too busy thinking of Fred kissing her neck. She wasn't paying attention until someone yelled out her name.

"Hermione!" a voice yelled, coming from the direction of Nearly Headless Nick.

Hermione's head whipped over to the ghost, and when she looked at his gut she saw none other then… Fred?

She was mortified beyond all belief. How did he manage to find her? How was this possible? Was he happy to see her? It was then that Hermione realized what was tasting her neck…

"Fred!" she yelled at his image, hoping he could hear her. His face was excited to see her, she could tell. She tried to hold his gaze so he wouldn't notice James, but it was too late.

His eyes shifted downward to James and to her neck.

The damage had already been done.


	10. Scarier Than Voldemort

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** These next few chapters are dedicated to one of my best friends, Bev, because this is her birthday present. Because of her, I got my ass into gear and wrote this chapter. The next four chapters will be dedicated to her, and I will try to have them out as fast as possible! Seriously readers, thank Bev for this chapter. Without her it wouldn't be up!

Chapter Ten: Scarier than Voldemort

Their lips collided after an eternity of being apart; it was their first kiss. They had waited for this moment for weeks, slowly getting closer and closer to kissing each time they were alone. The heat radiated off their bodies as they embraced. His hands made their way down to the small of her back, pressing her against his body and feeling the heat radiate off of them both.

_So this is what it feels like…_ She thought to herself as she tasted his bottom lip with her tongue. It was the best feeling of her life, kissing Fred. She never wanted to stop, and planned on prolonging this moment as long as possible.

Until she opened her eyes and realized she was kissing James Potter.

"Ah!" she squealed in shock, yanking back from his resisting arms.

When she looked around her she realized that she was surrounded by all of Hogwarts. People were hooting and hollering and making gestures that really should never be made in public.

"What's the matter? Can't you handle a little public display of affection, dear?" James asked with a huge grin on his face.

"I need to get out of here." Hermione said quickly. "I need to get out of here and go hide my face from the shame."

James laughed. "Aww, come on sweetheart! You don't want to have a little more fun?"

James tightened his grip around Hermione's back and put his face closer to hers. He tilted his head so that his eyes bore into her, and he slowly lowered his head. Before Hermione could hit him and make a run for it, their lips were colliding again, and the hooting and hollering stopped. Now, the only noise Hermione heard was James's exaggerated 'MmMm' noises and Lily Evans's angry barks from the crowd.

James was undoubtedly going to get Hermione killed.

* * *

Fred had gone crazy, just as he had been crazy for the two weeks after he saw Hermione through Nearly Headless Nick's stomach.

It seemed like he didn't understand anything anymore. He thought that he had found a girl who was different from the rest and was fun to be around. However, he was totally wrong. His wonderful girlfriend-to-be turned out to be just as bad as the rest of them. She hadn't been gone a week and she was already tongue tied with some greasy bohunk from the past.

Well, he wasn't going to take it anymore! Fred had decided, right there in the Great Hall, that he was done with Hermione. He would find another girl to date, and he would do everything he could to make sure Hermione knew that he was done with her.

After shoveling down breakfast with George, Fred decided that he needed to walk around the castle in search of a new girlfriend. The first pretty girl he saw would be his new victim. Girlfriend.

"Explain to me why we're frantically searching around the grounds?" George asked Fred as he scowered the fourth floor.

"We're finding me a replacement for—" Fred stopped himself in the middle of his sentence. It was too late. George already knew what he was replacing.

"We're finding a replacement necklace. Mine has gone missing."

"Right." Said George.

George, who was feeling particularly funny that day, was in the mood to make endless amounts of jokes. Fred hadn't been up for pranks in weeks, and the familiar itch of the desire to prank was making itself known. If he couldn't prank, he might as well make an ass out of himself through jokes.

"Oh look, Fred!" George said, pointing to a beautiful, chesnut haired girl. "That necklace is _beautiful_! You could wear her all day, eh? Eh?"

"Very funny George."

"Oh! That one over there is a _fine_ specimen. Look at those hands! I bet she'd tell your time in a heartbeat!"

"The necklace isn't a clock! What are you talking about?"

"And that one is rounder than normal ones. Man, so round…"

"That's nice, George."

Fred dragged George onto every floor of Hogwarts, searching for the perfect girl to replace Hermione. It was a frustrating adventure for Fred, mainly because every time he found a girl that he felt was pretty enough to be competition, George chimed in and explained to Fred that the girl was a clone of Hermione. She was everywhere he went. Bushy bundles of dirty blonde hair bounced their way down every hall. Chocolate eyes looked at Fred from every doorway. The whole experience worsened Fred's anger. He couldn't get away from her, even when she was in the past.

"Why can't you just admit that you like Hermione?" George finally asked, after hours of torturous searching.

"How does this have anything to do with _her_? We are looking for a replacement necklace." Fred snapped.

"Okay, _first off_, that doesn't make any sense! Why are you looking through Hogwarts to find a new necklace? If you want a new one, go to a store!"

"I found it here, so I'll find another one here!"

"No you won't! You just need something to fill the gap because she's gone!"

Fred sighed. It was true. It was all true. But she was gone for who knows how long, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Fred said, sitting on a bench on the side of the hallway. "Everything was so exciting when she was around. Except for the choking on bacon part, being around her was fun. She just left… I don't understand why. And the other day I saw her kissing some guy."

"I thought you said she was gone…" George said, baffled.

"Nevermind. The point is, I'm in a funk."

"Clearly," said George, "Only a man in a funk would chase his younger brother around campus screaming at him."

"Not my proudest moment."

"Well I'm sure she'll be back. You could always casually drop in a conversation with Dumbledore that you've noticed she's missing."

"I guess."

The rest of the day went by rather slowly for Fred. Everywhere he went silhouettes of Hermione walked all around him. It was driving him mad, and he couldn't afford to have any more episodes like he had had previously.

That night at dinner something changed in Fred. He had his eye on a Slytherin across the way, who looked exactly like Hermione. Bushy haired and dark eyed, she looked increasingly like what Fred needed. In the middle of a conversation with Fred and Lee Jordan, a spark was ignited under him.

He suddenly stood up, startling everyone around him at the table by his sudden movement. He straightened his tie and robes, ruffled his hair, and took a napkin from the table and put it into his pocket. Without saying a word, he walked away from the table towards the door. Everyone around him watched carefully, wondering why he was leaving in the middle of dinner. However, they were surprised when he turned abruptly and made his way over to the Slytherin table. He walked straight to the middle of table behind the girl he had been staring at and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around, and gave him a sneer when she saw his house colors.

"Excuse me." Fred said, pulling the folded napkin out of his pocket. "Someone has given me a message for you."

The Slytherin girl turned around and stood up from the bench to grab the note. She reached her hand out to take it, but Fred's other hand beat her to it. He grabbed her hand, yanked her to him, and planted a huge kiss on her lips.

The entire population of the Great Hall gasped as Fred feverishly kissed her, looking crazy as he kissed her again and again, as if he was a dog tasting a new brand of food.

The unusual sight just might have been scarier than Lord Voldemort himself.


	11. The Beauxbatons Transfer

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** These next few chapters are dedicated to one of my best friends, Bev, because this is her birthday present. Because of her, I got my ass into gear and wrote this chapter. The next three chapters will be dedicated to her, and I will try to have them out as fast as possible! Seriously readers, thank Bev for this chapter. Without her it wouldn't be up! PS READ AND REVIEW! Reviews give me confidence to continue writing!

Chapter Eleven: The Beauxbatons Transfer

The whole situation was ridiculous, according to Hermione. James Potter was unknowingly taking advantage of her love of Fred, and using that to make Lily jealous. She was unbelievably frustrated with herself; she didn't come to the past to wrestle tongues with James, she came to do… wait a minute.

What was she there to do? The night Harry died, Hermione had a conversation with Dumbledore. He had said something—what was it?

"…when Lily and James Potter were in their seventh year of Hogwarts…" Dumbledore had said.

But what was the point of it? She had calculated how to steal the time turner from Fred. She had calculated how many times she would need to spin it to go back to James's 7th year of Hogwarts. She had calculated where she would sleep. She did all these calculations, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do in this time period.

She couldn't wait the ridiculous amount of years it would take to get herself back to the future, because that would be a waste of time. She needed to find a way to communicate with Professor Dumbledore, and she needed to do it fast, before Lily murdered her in her sleep.

How had Fred gotten to her those couple of weeks ago? She was sitting at dinner, and Nearly Headless Nick had suddenly started wheezing. Fred came out of his stomach? Was her answer to jump through Nick's stomach and back into her time period?

After thinking over all of the possibilities for a few days, Hermione decided that it was time to take action. After James brought her breakfast, she waited until she was sure he was gone and made her way to the end of the tunnel she had been staying in. When she reached the end, she opened the passageway and peeked out into the hall. Look left, look right. No one there.

She realized halfway through her 'stealthy' routine that it didn't matter if anyone saw her because her cover was already blown. That idiot James was now canoodling with her every chance he got, and every jealous witch at Hogwarts knew exactly who she was—that stupid Potter stealer. It was quite immature really, but girls will be girls.

Hermione had been thinking it over, and didn't want to talk to any teachers just yet. She didn't want to talk to Professor Dumbledore, because he wouldn't know who she was. She didn't want to talk to Sir Nicholas because she wasn't sure if she should expose herself as a future student and ruin her whole plan. So, she was going to do what she had planned on from the very beginning, and refused to do. She would find a pen, or transfigure her wand into a pen. Whichever was easier.

Most students were in class. It was a little before noon and lunch would be starting in ten minutes. Hermione carefully rounded corner after corner of the school; she didn't want to run into anyone that she didn't want to see.

"Hey!" An angry voice shouted from behind Hermione. Oops—too late.

Hermione turned around to see none other, than a fiery Lily Evans. _Kill me now_, she thought to herself. _Death is better than having to deal with this…_ Hermione put on her happy face.

"Oh, hello Lily! How is it going? Do you need anything?" She kicked herself mentally. Being 'Happy Hermione' did not mean sucking up, even if the girl she was sucking up to was about to beat her to a bloody pulp.

"How is it going?" Lily mocked. "How is it going? I think you know exactly how it's going for me—what's your name?

"I would assume you're doing great. Nothing seems to be going wrong for you, from what I've observed."

Lily's hands turned into fists, and Hermione flinched.

"Of course, there could be something that I've completely overlooked. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Are you a transfer from another school?" Lily asked angrily. Hermione noted that Lily seemed to only have one setting—angry and ready to beat someone up. This was not comforting in the slightest.

"Yeah, I transferred from… from… uh… Beauxbatons."

"Well that explains a lot."

"I see, well if all you wanted to know is where I came from then I'm going to go—"

"Hold it Beauxbatons! I still have some questions for you."

"Oh, well alright then. But lunch is starting soon so we really should get going."

"How do you know James?" She demanded.

"We go way back, actually. I've know his son—sunny face since we were kids!"

"How could you have known him if you go to Beauxbatons? That's in a completely different area than where James lives."

"I met him on vacation when I was seven, and we've stayed friends ever since."

"Looks like you're a little more than friends these days."

"Yeah…"

"Well, you should be careful of James. He has a tendency to change girls every couple of weeks—sometimes every couple of days. So be careful what you're getting yourself into. You could end up getting _hurt_." At this point, Lily's knuckles were white from how hard she was squeezing them in a fist.

"Thanks for the tip Lily, but don't worry, I can handle myself. Ohlookit'slunchseeyoulater!" At that point, Hermione was running away faster than someone on a broomstick. It looked like the whole 'murder Hermione in her sleep' plan was definitely about to become a reality.

Hermione skipped lunch and ran to the secret tunnel where she was staying in. She got inside without anyone noticing, and ran to where her pillow and blanket were. She yanked her wand out of her back pocket, pointed at the wall across from her bed, and yelled the first spell she could think of. Her wand glowed in the darkness of the hallway, and she moved her wand as if she was writing on a sheet of paper. With her newly formed pen she wrote along the wall:

FRED—I'M SORRY—IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK—

AM TRAPPED IN PAST WITH NO PURPOSE—

NEED TO CONTACT DUMBLEDORE—HELP ME—

HERMIONE—

PS—REALLY AM SORRY

* * *

Fred was recovering from his idiotic show of affection for a Slytherin in his favorite secret passageway. Him and George had searched the entire school during their first year at Hogwarts, and had found every secret hallway. They knew where each hallway was, where it led to, and how to get in and out of them without anyone knowing or seeing them.

He had put a permanent spell on this hallway. There was always light filling it, so Fred would always be able to see where he was going. It's true, he had a wand and could make light manually, but what is the fun of having to do tedious tasks over and over again when you have a want to do it for you once?

George would probably come looking for his brother sooner or later, but Fred wasn't really worried about that at the moment. He was more worried about the fact that he had made a total fool out of himself, all because he couldn't deal with the fact that Hermione was gone. He wondered if he would ever see her again. Would he ever see her smile? Would he ever get to watch her curse Malfoy into Oblivion? He needed her now more than ever, mainly because every Slytherin was out to get him for kissing one of their own, and he needed someone to protect him.

It had been a few hours since Fred had left the Great Hall, and he wondered if it would be safe to show his face. Clearly he would have to deal with weird looks and judgmental comments as he walked by people, but maybe he wouldn't have to worry about being cursed by a Slytherin.

Suddenly a sound echoed through the hallway. It was loud, and it sounded like that thing that muggles used… spray paint. It sounded like someone spray painting something. He looked around to see where the loud noise was coming from. It wasn't far away, and it didn't appear to be approaching from anywhere. The sound was right on top of him, and he couldn't figure out what was causing it.

Finally Fred realized that the noise wasn't coming from up above. It was coming from right behind him. He got up and looked at the wall behind him, only to see a message slowly being written on the wall.

FRED—I'M SORRY—IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK

"Hermione?" Fred said aloud. "Hermione, is that you?"

Who else would send him a message like that? Who else had anything to apologize to Fred for? No one but Hermione. A wave of anger made its way through Fred's chest, and he couldn't control his emotions anymore. He kicked the wall, grabbed his jacket and wand, and walked to the end of the hallway.

"See if I forgive you." He muttered to himself, and suddenly had the urge to go find that Slytherin girl.

He didn't see the rest of the message being written on the wall.


	12. Sludgetastic

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** These next few chapters are dedicated to one of my best friends, Bev, because this is her birthday present. Because of her, I got my ass into gear and wrote this chapter. The next two chapters will be dedicated to her, and I will try to have them out as fast as possible! Seriously readers, thank Bev for this chapter. Without her it wouldn't be up! PS READ AND REVIEW! Reviews give me confidence to continue writing!

Chapter Twelve: Sludgetastic

It was warmer than it had been in weeks. The chill of certain death had worn off in the present. The disturbing discussions of how Harry Potter was killed were slowing down, and students and faculty were trying to go back to their normal routines. By no means was everything back to normal, but it was a start.

It was a start for everyone but Fred and Ron Weasley. Ron, who was trying to manage living without his two best friends, was constantly interrupted by his crazy brother, Fred, who was sinking farther and farther into madness as the days went on. Fred's constant outbreaks were taking a toll on Ron, and it seemed like he would never get away from stressful situations. In the past, when he wasn't fighting off Lord Voldemort and facing other dark wizards, he could relax at Hogwarts and focus on being a normal kid. These days, however, he couldn't relax for more than an hour before Fred cooked up another clever idea to embarrass himself and everyone around him. Hogwarts had gone mad, and Ron had no one to turn to.

It was midmorning, and Ron had sunk into his favorite chair in the Gryffindor Common Room. He had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply, thinking about Harry and Hermione. He wondered what Harry must be doing at that exact moment. What did the deceased do? Did they go to a hotel amongst the clouds, with Wizards Chess tables and Quidditch fields and candy shops? He hoped that wherever Harry was, he was safe, warm, and happy. He deserved nothing less.

Ron's mind switched over to Hermione, who didn't have the benefit of being surrounded by all the cool things Harry must be surrounded by. He didn't have a clue what she would be doing. After all, she couldn't show herself to the world, otherwise she could mess up time forever. Where would she be staying? Hopefully she had a pillow and a blanket at least. Ron had had a crush on Hermione ever since she made her first know-it-all comment to him. It was both annoying and endearing, and Ron missed having her around. Hopefully she was alright…

The Fat Lady's portrait swung open, and in came Fred, covered in… snakes?

"Get these things off of me!" Fred yelled as he fell to the floor, rolling around.

Every girl in the Common Room screamed and jumped onto the tops of tables and couches. Hundreds of green snakes slithered across Fred's body. Some hissed at passerby who tried to help free Fred, and others tightened their already tight grip on him.

Ron stared blankly at the odd display before him. Well what the hell was he supposed to do? Normally Hermione would have popped out of nowhere by now and said some magical spell that would make all of the snakes disappear. The problem was, as time went by, Ron became less and less inclined to help his brother. This was at least the tenth time Fred had disturbed his personal time for rest and relaxation. Why should he help Fred, when Fred never did anything polite to help Ron out?

"Ow! He bit me!" Fred hollered from the floor.

Tragically, that's why he had to help him out. He was his brother after all, and if his mother found out that he didn't help him, he'd never be allowed to leave the Burrow over the holidays. Ron sighed, got up, and decided to be brave.

He ran over to Fred and put his fear of slithery things behind him. He reached his hand towards Fred and yanked a snake off of his left leg. The snake hissed and lunged towards Ron, but before he could strike, he evaporated into dust and fell to the floor. Some of the girls across the way, who had seen the snake disappear, ran over to Fred and started ripping snakes off of him. Each one evaporated and fell to the floor.

Ron couldn't figure out why Fred wasn't sitting up and thanking him for his efforts, until he saw the snake that was squeezing his lungs shut. Ron reached out to grab it and pulled with every ounce of strength he had, but the snake wouldn't budge.

"Help me pull this thing off!" Ron yelled at the girls next to him.

Soon ten people were yanking at the snake, twisting its body into uncomfortable positions so it would loosen its grip. Eventually, when the last of the snake had been pulled off, it burst into a cloud of dust. Fred rolled into the fetal position and began to cough uncontrollably. Someone ran over to the couch and got a cushion to put under his head, and he gladly took it. When he had finally gotten over the shock, he pushed himself up and sat Indian style on the couch cushion.

"What the hell happened to you?" Ron demanded while grabbing a pillow to hit his brother with.

"It's a long story." Fred said timidly.

"Well I've got all day, so spill it!"

Neither Fred nor Ron seemed to realize that their conversation was anything but private. If one of them had bothered to look around they would notice that the entire contents of the Gryffindor Common Room were huddled in a circle around the two boys, as if they were at camp sitting around a fire waiting to hear ghost stories.

"Well I was down in the dungeons making out with that Slytherin girl." Fred began. The entire room hissed at the very mention of the Slytherin; coincidentally they sounded like a snake. Ron rolled his eyes, but didn't say a word to his brother.

"So, we're in the middle of our… fun. In comes Malfoy and his friends, who as soon as they see us _freak out_ and run over. Holly and I jump apart—"

"Her names Holly?" Ron asked. "How have I never heard of her before?"

"I don't know, that's your problem. So anyways, I start trying to talk them out of hexing me. Saying stuff like, 'It's okay guys, I just want to be your friend.' 'We're just getting to know each other better.' 'I just want to be friends.'"

"It sure seems like they want to be your friend, Fred."

"In any case they hexed me despite my efforts. I couldn't understand why I suddenly felt like I needed a shower. I suddenly felt slimy, and then I saw the snake come out of my pants pocket. Then another one came out of my shirt, and then out of my shoes. It was terrible, and that big one immediately went for my throat."

Halfway through Fred's story George walked in with Angelina Johnson. He walked over to see what all the commotion was about, and saw a peculiar looking person in the middle of the crowd. He was covered in silver and green slime, and he looked like he was covered with egg whites. It wasn't until he saw the flaming red hair that he realized that the peculiar looking boy was his brother.

"Fred, I see you've found a new look! It looks simply sludgetastic, where did you get it?" George asked.

"This is his punishment for kissing that Slytherin again."

"You kissed her again? Now I know you're hungry for a replacement, but couldn't you have picked something other than a snake?"

"Oh shut up George." Fred said, and got up to his feet. George plugged his nose and waved the air away from his face.

"Go take a shower. You stink! This look is gorgeous, but definitely not functional."

"Yeah, I'll get to that."

"I'm serious, you smell like a disease carrying reptile."

As Fred walked up the stairs to the Boys' Dormitory, everyone watched him in silence as he oozed silver sludge with each trudging step. People could deny it all they wanted, but Hogwarts was definitely not back to normal. With warm weather, the snakes come out to play.

Ron went back over to sit in his chair and attempt to relax, but when he sat down he was greeted by the hard bottom of a cushionless chair. When he looked around to see where his cushion went, he saw it in the middle of the crowd, covered in sludge and snake dust.

He grumbled. _That's just great.

* * *

  
_

It wasn't warm where Hermione was. The warmth from her time hadn't rubbed off on any other time period. In fact, it was getting colder with each passing day. Students were wearing their outdoor clothes for winter inside, and the biting cold was beginning to make everyone testy.

Hermione was spending a lot of her time in her secret hallway, waiting to see some sort of reply back from Fred. It was impossible, and she knew it. She could write notes to him in the future. It stayed written on the walls for ages until he would stumble upon it. Fred couldn't make time go backwards, and he couldn't write her another note on the wall. She had decided, after a few days of waiting, that it was time to take action.

She waited until dinner and made her way into the Great Hall. While everyone else was stuffing themselves with hot meals, she waited for his arrival.

Eventually, Sir Nicholas flew through a wall into the Great Hall. Hermione was annoyed at his nonchalance, because she had been waiting for him to show up for quite some time. She picked up a steaming piece of apple pie and waited for him to saunter closer to her. When he got close enough, she gripped the pie firmly in her hands, aimed, and catapulted it towards Nick's head. That would get his attention, and then she'd be able to talk to him about what happened with Fred.

Unfortunately, her aim wasn't nearly as good as she convinced herself it was, and it hit none other than Lily Evans, who for the first time since Hermione had seen her, was smiling. Oh how quickly things change.

Hermione watched as Lily's face turned the color of her bright red hair. Not from being embarrassed, but from the insides of the pie that were dripping all over her.

"You! Beauxbatons!" Lily yelled over the talking crowd.

Everyone was silent. Nervous first years were preparing to hide under the table if anything fishy starting to happen. What they weren't prepared for was the fishy situation, which literally consisted of a fish being pelted back at Hermione.

It whapped her in the face with an impressive force, and the entire Great Hall was still silent. Hermione peeled off the fish and put it on her plate. She glared at Lily for a few seconds. The pie was accidental, but the fish wasn't.

Sirius, who couldn't resist some good fun, stood up on his seat and yelled to the entire crowd.

"FOOD FIGHT!"

Suddenly everything was a blur for Hermione. She was suddenly being hit with every known piece of food. Fruits, vegetables, meats, soups (which were very hot and not amusing to be hit with at _all_). Sirius and James were throwing steaks over at the Slytherins, and ducking every once in awhile to dodge the incoming food that was being thrown at them. Remus, who had never cared for Hermione and questioned her motives, took the opportunity to throw mashed potatoes at her. Hermione made sure to immediately cover him in syrup, and took the extra effort to make sure she thoroughly soaked the book he was reading. Peter, who was never very social, served his friends food that they could launch at people.

The entire school had forgotten the cold, possibly because they were all burning up from the heat of dinner. Slytherins took out their frustrations at the Gryffindors, and vice versa. Hufflepuffs, who didn't have any house enemies, threw everything they could at everyone. Just to be fair.

"Who are you and where did you come from?" Sirius asked through laughter, giving Hermione a high five.

Hermione burst into laughter. She jumped around, twisting and turning violently to throw pasta at people. As she was turning to throw something at the Ravenclaw table, a banana peel was thrown under her feet and she came crashing down to the hard stone floor. She wasn't hurt, but only because the entire floor was covered in soft food. James fell into even deeper hysterics and got down off the bench to help Hermione up.

At that moment, Lily made her way over to James and Hermione, carrying a large tray of ice cream. Her hands were shaking and she looked livid. With a laugh of satisfaction, she dumped the ice cream on Hermione. The only problem Lily didn't seem to think through was the fact that everything around her was slippery. When she dumped the ice cream she stumbled a bit, and when she grabbed on to the side of the table to hold herself up her hand slipped and she fell to the floor as well.

This didn't make Lily any happier. If anything, it made her even more annoyed than before. She tried to get up again and again but kept slipping in ice cream. It wasn't until James came over and held out his hand when she smiled and calmed down. James handed her a napkin to wipe off her face, grinning at her the entire time. After cleaning off her face, Lily took a piece of pie and shoved onto his, laughing the entire time. Hermione watched the flirting unfold and winked at James. Hopefully he no longer needed her help. Everything seemed to be going alright.

"STOP!" Yelled Dumbledore from his seat at the head of the room. All commotion ceased.

"Who is responsible for this?" he demanded.

Every finger pointed to Hermione.

"Well Ms.—" Dumbledore stuttered. "I'm not sure what your name is. Go to your dormitory and clean up, and then report straight to my office."

"Yes sir…" She said, and headed out of the Great Hall. When she left the room, the familiar freezing temperatures greeted her.


	13. Rat Him Out

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** These next few chapters are dedicated to one of my best friends, Bev, because this is her birthday present. Because of her, I got my ass into gear and wrote this chapter. The next chapter will be the last chapter that's dedicated to her, sine I've now updated five just for her. I will try to have them out as fast as possible! Seriously readers, thank Bev for this chapter. Without her it wouldn't be up! PS READ AND REVIEW! Reviews give me confidence to continue writing!

Chapter Thirteen: Rat Him Out

"Ms. Granger, I must say, I'm both disappointed and amused by your actions."

Hermione sat in Dumbledore's office. She had done exactly what he told her to do. She went to her hideout, cleaned herself up, and headed straight to his office. She wanted to do everything in her power to make sure Dumbledore didn't send her back to the future before she had a chance to save Harry, and following orders was a nice start.

"I'm sorry Professor Dumbledore… I didn't mean to start the food fight. I was trying to get Nearly Headless Nick's attention and I hit another student by accident. She threw a fish at me, and then my friend yelled out 'FOOD FIGHT!' I'm sorry, I really am."

"I think you are mistaken, Ms. Granger." Said Dumbledore, glancing down at her over his half moon spectacles.

"What do you mean, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"You seem to be under the misconception that you're here because of the food fight."

"You mean that's not why I'm here?"

"Oh heavens no! By all means, feel free to start those as often as you can. Meals need to be lightened up around here. I daresay they're too serious."

Hermione's jaw dropped to the floor. She had always known that Dumbledore was an odd man, but she never realized that he was so amused by childlike antics.

"If you don't mind me asking… Why am I here?"

"You're here because I would like to know who taught you about camouflage." Dumbledore let out a chuckle. Hermione seemed to be the only one who didn't get the joke.

"I don't understand. Why do you want to know about my knowledge of camouflage? I know what it is."

"All evidence to the contrary, my dear. Everything you have done here suggests that you have no idea how to camouflage yourself!" He laughed again, this time a lot louder and heartier.

"Oh…" Hermione was beet red.

"I must say, watching your attempts to be stealthy have been the most amusing days of my life. First, you get here and immediately run into a group of students. Second, you then _willingly_ take yourself out into the open and canoodle with one of those boys you met on your first night here! Third, you stand on a table and start a school wide food fight. If everyone at this school doesn't know your face by now, then I'd be surprised."

"I'm sorry Professor. I had never planned on being so inefficient in my work. I got here so fast. I came without thinking of what I was supposed to do here, and I got caught up with James and Sirius."

"I'm glad you met Sirius and his friends. You were always a little on the over serious side." Dumbledore laughed again at his joke, while Hermione rolled her eyes at the pun.

The office was silent for a minute or so as Hermione let this experience register with her. She was several decades in the past, but Dumbledore was talking to her as if she was one of his students. She wasn't even born yet, so how did this past Dumbledore know who she was, and how did he know everything that she had been doing for her past couple of weeks here? Hermione knew that she should never have underestimated Dumbledore. He was the most powerful wizard in the world, and he never ceased to have a few new tricks up his sleeve.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione started to ask.

"Yes Ms. Granger?"

"How do you know who I am? I'm not a student here yet. In fact I haven't even been born yet. So how do you know my name?"

"Oh that's easy! I sent myself a note to remind myself that you would be popping by for a visit." Hermione racked her brain, trying to figure out how that made any sense.

"I see… Well, then I suppose there's no point in me asking you if you know why I'm here."

"That would be very silly indeed, Ms. Granger. You're here to save Harry Potter's life twice."

"Oh good! So you know about what I'm doing here. I was worried that you'd send me back to where I came from if you didn't understand why I was here. Wait. _Two times_?" Hermione asked.

"Two times." Dumbledore laughed again, and Hermione wondered what was so funny about this.

"He's only died once Professor. I'm saving his life this time—"

"So you can save his life again in your seventh year."

Hermione was absolutely baffled. What in the world was Dumbledore talking about? She was supposed to save Harry's life twice? She could barely focus on saving his life once, let alone twice!

Although Hermione wanted to know more about Harry's second death, a wave of nausea made it's way through her body, and waves of dizziness pounded her head. She wanted to know more, but her body was too nervous. Sure, she was a great witch and knew a lot more spells than anybody in her year, but was she really good enough to save Harry's life? The only people trying to kill him were dark wizards, and there was no way she was any match for them. She was definitely no match for Lord Voldemort, that's for sure.

"I'll be honest, I don't really want to know what happens to Harry in the future. I'd be too tempted to tell him about it, and that could alter everything. I can't have that kind of guilt on my hands, Professor Dumbledore. Please, just tell me what you sent me here to do, and I'll do it. I just want to go home and be with Fr—" She clapped her hand over her mouth before she could say his name. Fred. He probably didn't want to speak to her ever again, so it's not like it mattered.

"Your first task is simple, and you already knew what it was before you came here. Find the vial that was used to kill Harry. My second job for you is a little more difficult."

Hermione's ears perked up, and she suddenly didn't feel as nauseas as she did before. Was she feeling… excited? Most likely. She had always been the brains behind the operations with Ron and Harry, but she had never been able to be the hero.

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked eagerly.

"Something is happening with the Slytherins. Although they've always been a disagreeable bunch they're beginning to act stranger than normal."

Dumbledore stopped speaking for a moment. His eyes glazed over as if he was in deep concentration, and Hermione didn't dare to disrupt him.

"More and more of them are beginning to be, well, quite a bit angrier than they normally are. They're disrupting class, they're pulling violent pranks on other students, and they're terrorizing everyone at this school."

"So you want me to be their guidance counselor? Talk them through their issues?" Hermione laughed, but was disappointed when Dumbledore didn't get the joke.

"No. I want you to figure out why this is happening, and who is causing it. I know that this is the work of someone dark."

"But Professor… Wouldn't you know if Voldemort was here?"

"I would, which is why I know that he's not directly causing the problem. It's him, though, and he's working through someone at this school."

Hermione, who had been gazing at Fawks, Dumbledore's pet Pheonix, snapped her head to look at her Headmaster. She knew exactly who the traitor was.

"I'll report back when I know who it is." Hermione said eagerly.

"Don't be silly Ms. Granger. You, I, and Fawks know that you are already aware of who the traitor is. Take this," he handed her a small white vial, "and slip it into his next victim's drink. Don't put it in until _After_ he slips it into her cup."

"Her?"

"Yes, she'll be a great asset to us in the future. Now I must ask you to leave. I'm tired, and I'd like to get a good night rest so I can watch you camouflage yourself tomorrow." He laughed, got up out of his chair, and disappeared.

Hermione was too tired to process any of what Dumbledore had just said to her. She decided to sleep on it and wait until morning to start her work. It really wasn't that difficult anyways.

All she had to do was find the rat.


	14. An Odd Thump

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** This is the last chapter that is dedicated to one of my best friends, Bev. Because of her, I got my ass into gear and wrote this chapter. Seriously readers, thank Bev for this chapter. Without her it wouldn't be up! PS READ AND REVIEW! Reviews give me confidence to continue writing!

Chapter Fourteen: An Odd Thump

The dungeon was pitch black and colder than anything imaginable. It was the perfect hideout for him, as his soul was as cold as the room he stood in. It grew colder as he encircled her in the dungeon, listening to her screams echo through the building. He smiled as he heard her whimpering. She jumped as he made noise from different spots in the room, trying to figure out where he would attack her from. With every noise he made brought a different location.

Around and around the noises went, encircling her and making her dizzy. Her screams reverberated off of every surface, and it made her fall deeper into hysteria.

"You underestimated me, my dear." A voice whispered into her ear. She shivered violently as his cool breath touched the back of her neck.

With the flick of his wand, and jet of green light burst out of it, and all that could be heard from outside the dungeon was Hermione Granger's last screams.

* * *

Every student at Hogwarts sat in the Great Hall, which had been transformed into a magnificent white room. White chairs lined the entire hall, and everyone was seated quietly. No one dared to move or make a sound. This was a serious moment, and it was to be treated as such. Dumbledore stood at the front of the room behind his podium.

To the students he looked tall, majestic, and brave, but the faculty behind him knew he was anything but. His hands gripped the podium tightly to keep himself standing. Without it, Dumbledore wondered if he'd be able to hold himself up. He took deep breaths every few seconds to ensure he didn't shed a tear. If anyone had to be strong for Hogwarts, it was Dumbledore. He took one more deep breath, pushed his half moon spectacles higher on his nose, and began to speak.

"We are here today to celebrate the life of Harry Potter." A majority of the room was already in shambles.

"Harry was a respectable young man. Not only because he constantly risked his life to save others against the Dark Lord, but because he cared about every person he met. He was kind and honest, and many people—children and adults alike—looked up to him for his courage."

Dumbledore paused for a moment to let Ginny Weasley get control of herself. She was crying louder than Dumbledore was talking, and it was hard for everyone to hear him over her high pitched sobs. As he waited for her brother George to calm her down, he looked at the white coffin in front of him. Harry was lying peacefully in it, and Dumbledore had to look somewhere else to avoid crying.

As Ginny cried louder, Dumbledore knew that this was going to be a long service.

* * *

Hermione had a lot more spare time to herself lately. The food fight had given James a chance to woo Lily, and it appeared that the wooing was going along greatly. It was only going well in the sense that Lily was actually talking to him now, which was definitely a change for the better. James still had to get used to Lily. She wasn't like the other girls, mainly because she didn't melt whenever she was around him. All other girls were rendered incapable of saying anything intelligent when they were around him, and he loved soaking up their undivided attention.

Lily was different than the other girls, though. If she was melted inside when she was around James she showed no sign of it. It concerned him that he couldn't melt her, because he had no idea how to deal with girls that spoke in cohesive sentences. Lily was always so calm and collected, and James felt himself becoming worried. What was he supposed to say to her? What was he supposed to do to make her laugh? Girls whose brains had turned to mush were much easier to entertain than Lily was.

Hermione had been interrogated by James on multiple occasions, who asked her ridiculous amounts of questions on how girls worked. Hermione always thought it was silly that James was asking Hermione questions about Lily's inner workings. If he wanted to know more about her, why didn't he just ask her himself?

James was on a date with Lily when Hermione decided to go to the Room of Requirement. She figured that going at night would be a better time than during the day. Everyone would be in their dormitories asleep, and the only people she would have to avoid were Filch and the Prefects.

Hermione walked out of her hideout and walked over the moving staircases. She couldn't help but feel excited. This was the first time that she was at the head of the group. She was the one who got to do all the action, and she didn't have to watch Harry and Ron try to do everything themselves.

She made her way up the moving staircases, wondering how difficult it was going to be to find the vial. The Room of Requirement was large, and if there were a lot of shelves, that meant a long time of searching. Hermione got to the seventh floor with no trouble. She didn't run into anyone, and she was glad that she wasn't having any difficulties. She walked around looking for the door, and it eventually popped up in front of her as she passed a set of bathrooms. As she opened the door and walked into the room, she could have sworn that she saw someone behind her.

* * *

Dumbledore had finished his speech, and was thankful that Ginny Weasley had finally stopped crying. He had waited twenty minutes while George comforted his sister. She practically had the whole school surrounding her and saying encouraging things. The only people in the room who gave her dirty looks were the Slytherins, but that was to be expected.

After Dumbledore made his speech, all of the teachers came up and said something about Harry. Even the teachers who hadn't had him in their classes had nothing but kind words. To everyone's surprise, even Professor Snape had something nice to say.

"He was terrible at making potions, but he was pretty good on a broom." Snape had said, and people couldn't help but laugh. Everyone knew that Snape hated Harry, and saying anything nice about him probably took every ounce of strength he had.

Once every teacher had made their speeches, it was time for students to come up and say things. Not very many were brave enough to stand up in front of the entire school. Ginny was the first to go up and say something, but she had to be carried off the stage when she fainted and fell to the floor. George carried her back to their seats, and fanned her with his hands, trying to make her wake up.

Luna Lovegood stood up and spoke after Ginny, and everyone let out a giggle. They were all in the need of something funny, and Luna would definitely be the person to give it to them. She stood up, tapped her heals together three times and said, "He was very peculiar, and I found that some of his habits were a tad… odd. But nonetheless, he was very nice and he always made me laugh. I enjoyed our companionship, and I will miss our talks of Nargles and articles in the Quibbler."

No one really knew how to respond to Luna's speech, mainly because she seemed to be so oblivious. Harry had odd habits? Had she ever taken a look at all of the weird things _she_ did?

In any case, it gave everyone the laugh they needed to get through the day, and the last part of the service. There wasn't going to be an open casket, because every teacher thought it was inappropriate to let students see his dead body. They didn't want Harry to be remembered as a cold, pale body in a box. He needed to be remembered for all of the heroic things he did. This decision disappointed first years and Slytherins, but everyone else was glad they didn't have to face the truth and look at him.

McGonagall had decided that every student should put something on or around Harry's casket. Whether it be flowers, candy, drawings, or notes, everyone had to do something to show their condolences. Ginny, who went a tad overboard in her hysteria, brought everything imaginable. She brought everything McGonagall had asked for and lots more. Neville Longbottom brought Harry a piece of paper. On it, he drew his toad Trevor, and along side the drawing was a little note saying how much he appreciated his friendship. A tear went down his cheek as he placed it on the top of the casket, and he quickly left the room.

After everyone in the school had given Harry their parting gifts and were getting ready to leave, a loud thumping noise came from the inside of the casket.

* * *

Hermione had been searching for what seemed like hours. She searched through aisle after aisle, lighting her wand and illuminating what seemed like a never ending supply of shelves. She found all sorts of things while looking through the room. She found wands and brooms and chess sets and books. She stumbled upon necklaces and love notes and action figures and vials. She looked at doorknobs and shoelaces and spare robes and another vial. Wait a minute—another vial? Hermione looked behind her at the object she had stumbled upon. It was a broken glass bottle—too big to be the vial she was looking for.

When she looked at the bottle closely she saw the tiny pieces of glass that had been spread all over the floor. It had obviously fallen off the top shelf. If it had fallen off the lower shelves it wouldn't have shattered so far in so many different directions. Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine as she developed a hunch. She stood up from the floor, found a stepstool that she had tripped over earlier, and brought it over to where she was going to look. She stepped up, used her wand as a flashlight, and illuminated a green, snake shaped vial with ruby red eyes.

Ecstatic, Hermione grabbed the vial quickly from the shelf and held it tightly in her fist. That wasn't too hard after all! Hermione was glad that it went better than she expected. She was expecting to be searching for days, or until she died from exhaustion. What she wasn't expecting was a pair of blood red eyes staring at her from the other side of the shelf.

"Good Evening, Ms. Granger." The course voice said, and Hermione suddenly couldn't move a muscle. The vial fell from her grip and shattered on the floor, and she suddenly realized who was standing in front of her.

**A/N: For the love of god, people. Read and Review!**


	15. A Beating Heart

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** So, this Fanfiction of mine is now being turned in as a school assignment, so it will be finished by tomorrow night. Just thought you should know.

Chapter Fifteen: A Beating Heart

The chill in the air was eerie as the voice spoke to Hermione. The hair on her neck shot upright, and a wave of icy indifference jolted through her body. Of course she should have expected that this was going to happen. Did she really think that he would not know what she was up to? He was powerful; she knew this. He had connections everywhere; she knew this. He knew what she was up to; she now understood.

He stared at her through the open spots of the bookshelf, mimicking the vast array of expressions on her face. When her eyes widened in fear, his widened in mock shock. When her eyes fought back tears, he made puppy dog eyes. Hermione knew what was about to happen to her.

It's an odd feeling when you know that you're about to die. You don't see the entirety of your short existence flash before your eyes. You don't recount every bad encounter or attempt to find happiness vicariously through the happy memories from the past. Death isn't hours pushed into seconds; it is a rapidly beating heart aware of every second that passes by—waiting for the moment that it no longer beats. Hermione realized this as her heart beat faster and her breathing became nearly impossible.

The vial in her hands shattered along the floor as Hermione's body seized up from fear. It sizzled as it landed on the different trinkets that were scattered everywhere. She heard the broken pieces of glass catch on fire, and quickly looked down and saw them disintegrating into their own flames. The ruby red eyes were the only thing to survive the fire, and Hermione found herself switching between looking at them and the blood red eyes that glared at her behind the shelf.

She felt her body going into shock. She fought back convulsions as waves of shivers went down her spine. Her thighs felt numb, and they wobbled as she felt the surge of weakness run through her legs. Her fingers trembled, and Hermione felt herself shivering violently. Waves of dizziness pounded her head, and she caught her heart skipping a few beats.

It was the scariest moment of her life. She wasn't sure whether to attempt to escape or remain where she was. If she ran away, he would undoubtedly kill her. After all, that's what he did best. If she stayed in her spot, maybe she would be able to distract him and get away. She'd most likely get killed no matter what course of action she took, but at least one way prolonged her life for a few more minutes. No matter what, Hermione signed in relief when she realized that the vial had been destroyed and Harry would be saved.

After staring in silence, Lord Voldemort walked out from behind the shelf and stood in front of Hermione. The sight of him so close to her terrified her, and she stood silently, waiting for the oncoming jet of green light, and one last heartbeat.

* * *

_Thump_. The entire Great Hall was silent. Every pair of eyes was focused on the white casket at the front of the room. Loud noises were coming out of it, as if someone was inside pounding it with their fists. _Thump._ At the thought of the funeral being ruined, Ginny began to cry again. _Thump. _The rumbling became louder and louder as the noises happened more rapidly.

The casket was closed with a single white lock. Dumbledore had placed it on there as a precaution to keep anyone from doing anything dangerous to Harry's body. Although it was a solemn day for most of the school, Dumbledore didn't delude himself into thinking that every student was grieving over his death. He knew—as did all of the staff—that the Slytherins were quite pleased that the "Boy-Who-Lived" had lost his title.

Dumbledore had to hold back the rumbling anger inside of him that threatened to turn into loud roars. His instincts told him that the Slytherin house was behind this somehow, and he planned on doing everything he could after the service to make sure they had a miserable punishment. He was sure that Filch would gladly oblige whatever Dumbledore asked—he was so disappointed when they stopped torturing students and would do anything he could to bring back the sick pleasure he once felt hitting kids.

The only problem was, when he looked over to see what was happening at the Slytherin table, no one had grins on their faces. Draco Malfoy had his eyes fixated on the casket. Not in a oh-my-prank-is-coming-into-effect way, but more of a what-the-deuce-is-happening kind of way. The entire table looked shockingly at the casket in both fear and amazement, all wondering what was about to unfold before them. _Thump._

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

A voice screamed from inside the casket. It sounded like a scream, at least, because every person in the Great Hall could hear it. What the voice was saying was unrecognizable, but everyone heard it. The voice screamed again, but this time, something different happened.

The white lock on the casket was blown from it's place; it launched across the room at an incredible speed. The top of the casket blew open, and all of Hogwarts sat waiting for something else to happen.

They heard a deep breath come from the casket, and soon enough, Harry Potter sat up and looked out into the room. It was then that Dumbledore realized what had happened. It wasn't the Slytherins playing a prank. This was Hermione's doing.

* * *

"Good Evening, Ms. Granger." Voldemort said in a gentle voice. Hermione felt convulsions coming on. When she moved her mouth to say something, she found that she couldn't muster up enough strength to make anything come out of it.

"What's the matter?" Voldemort continued. "Too shy? I realize this is the first we've met. Do I need to introduce myself? I'm Lord—"

Hermione cringed. "I know exactly who you are, Voldemort."

"I believe that's 'Lord Voldemort' to you, Ms. Granger."

"You're not my lord."

It took her a moment before she realized what she was doing. What the hell was she thinking? Was she actually having… _playful_ banter with Voldemort? Who does that? If she wasn't careful she was going to get herself killed. Coincidentally, it was at that moment that a burst of green light jettisoned out of Voldemort's wand and leapt towards Hermione. She dodged the killing curse by mere centimeters, and scrambled from the floor and ran behind a bookshelf. More green light ran towards her as Voldemort screamed the curse over and over again. Death surrounded her, and although she tried as hard as she could to avoid getting hit, her heart waited for a fatal hit.

"Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!" He yelled, and everything around Hermione burst into dust. Love notes perished into the atmosphere. Fancy necklaces turned into nothing but cheap dirt. Books burst into flames—which hurt Hermione almost as much as the prospect of dying did—and crumbled to the floor. With another flick of his wand, Voldemort blew every bookshelf over with extreme gusts of wind. Hermione was too busy looking for a place to hide to notice the bookshelf, and all of its contents, falling on top of her.

She screamed as it fell on top her and crushed her silhouette. Broken glass covered her entire body. She didn't even feel like she had a body anymore. It was hard to feel anything. Voldemort, who had watched her get squished and laughed as it happened, walked over to where Hermione was laying. Without hesitation he put his left foot onto the bookshelf and put all of his weight on it. Hermione gasped for air as the shelf crushed her, and she struggled to breath. Voldemort's right foot now stood on the shelf, and Hermione screamed as a shard of broken glass slid deep into the back of her thigh. What felt like a necklace was pushed deeper into her back, and she felt the imprint it made as it crushed its way into her skin. Every part of her had something broken in it, and Hermione wondered if this would break any of her bones. She knew she wouldn't care when she was dead.

"It's so silly of you, Ms. Granger. You think that this is the worst I can do to you? Push a bookcase on top of you and crush you to death? You have no idea what pain is." Voldemort said wickedly, a smile brushing across his face.

Hermione knew what was coming. It wasn't green light. Not yet, anyways. Something else was coming for her, and it wasn't going to be fun.

"Crucio!" Voldemort yelled, and the torture curse zapped into Hermione's body.

She flailed underneath the weight of the shelf and Voldemort. She screamed as loud as she could, struggling to find a way out of the pain. Glass shoved deeper into her thigh as she convulsed, and that only made the pain more intense. It would have been a scary sight to anyone else in the room. Although Voldemort got pleasure out of her pain, other people would have cringed at the deafening howls coming from Hermione.

The mind of a murderer was almost annoying to Hermione. As she waited in agony, screaming and crying and moaning out in pain, she wondered how long Voldemort would make her suffer. This was the true torture of the Cruciatis curse. It wasn't the pain that tortured its victims—it was the time spent wondering when the pain would end and death would come. It was enough to drive a person into insanity. Hermione thought it was incredibly rude—and almost laughed at herself for thinking so—that he didn't just kill her already. What was the point of keeping her alive? What was so invigorating about watching her suffer? Wouldn't the sight of her dead body be enough to make Voldemort happy? She waited for everything to turn green.

Hermione couldn't finish the thought. All she managed to hear was Voldemort's booming voice, and everything went black.


	16. Go Towards the Light, You Fool!

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** So, this Fanfiction of mine is now being turned in as a school assignment, so it will be finished by tomorrow night. Just thought you should know. By the way, READ AND REVIEW! I used to get so many reviews, and I'm disappointed that I'm not getting very many anymore. Please, Review.

Chapter Sixteen: Go _Towards_ the Light, You Fool!

There's nothing quite like going to a funeral where the dead person comes back to life and jumps out of their casket. It really is a once in a lifetime experience, and everyone at Hogwarts had now experienced it. It was rather random, really. No one had expected it. Everything was going along fine. Ginny Weasley wouldn't shut up—as expected—and people looked sad about Harry's passing. But who would have thought that he would have popped out of the casket! So strange.

Probably the most surprised out of anyone was Harry. He had absolutely no idea what was going on when he suddenly opened his eyes and found that he wasn't in his bed. He was in a dark place, so it could have passed off as the Boy's Dormitory, but Harry wasn't fooled. As he opened his eyes from a sleep that felt a little too long, he looked around and saw four white walls surrounding him. It almost sounded as if someone was speaking outside of the box he was in.

Harry tried not to panic when he pushed up on the box and found that the lid wouldn't open. He had been in bad situations before, near death ones to be exact. If he could manage to keep his cool around people like Voldemort, then he could do it in this little box. Unless they were burying him alive, of course. That would just suck.

Since he was positive that there was someone outside of the box he was laying in, he figured that if he pounded on it a little bit then someone would come set him free. He hit it hard with his fist, and yelled a little bit when it really hurt his hand.

In between hitting the top of the box—and then recovering from it for awhile after—he thought about the weird things that he had experienced while he was asleep. The dreams he had were so vivid and strange. Dreams of anger and murder, and when he tried to open his eyes to wake up… his body wouldn't let him. It was a sleep that lasted too long, and Harry began to panic when he realized that there was something wrong. His subconscious was panicking when the thought occurred to him that he might be in a coma or dead. His mind raced through everything he had done before he had fallen into the angry dreams. Had he sat next to someone who was unknowingly deathly ill? Had he picked something up while being outside?

No matter what he did, his soul would not leave his body. Harry pleaded over and over again to die in his dreams. Nothing was worth the pain of watching the people he loved die repeatedly. He watched Ginny's throat get slit open. He watched Hermione hang from a tree with a rope around her neck. He watched Ron get eaten alive by giant spiders.

The worse part of all of it was that he didn't know what was triggering it. With each death he experienced, his heart beat a little bit faster, and he got the feeling in his chest of dropping a thousand feet. That feeling of lightness, but at the same time feeling constricted by the fear of dying from the fall. His eyes flickered around, trying to see something happy. Trying to find an exit to get out of this hell… But he couldn't find one.

When he had given up hope of ever getting out of his nightmares, he stumbled upon something that might be able to help him. Well, they found him. Harry had fallen off a cliff and was falling to the jagged rocks below that he knew would tear him to pieces. He was falling into an abyss of black smoke, and he closed his eyes and covered his ears with his hands so he wouldn't see, or hear his body being ripped apart. Until, however, a bright light came from above and plummeted toward him.

Now, Harry had grown up with muggles, so he knew the whole "Don't go toward the white light!" saying. It seemed like a silly thing to say to someone. Why would anyone go into the darkness, when they have light in front of them? Harry had tried, and he couldn't see in the dark. He could, however, see in the light. Why would he choose the foggiest path, and why was death represented by a white light? Why would death, the most unknown thing amongst humans, be represented by something so clear as light? When people die, why wouldn't they see darkness coming towards them?

In any case, Harry went against every rule that had been taught to him in the muggle world. He went towards the white light. To him, he'd rather go to the light than fall into the darkness—which need he remind you, was covered in sharp rocks.

As the light came closer to him, it started to take the shape of something other than light rays. Slowly, he saw a ray turn into a pair of arms, willing him to come towards them. With another look, the arm grew a neck, which moved as if the vocal chords inside were moving. He squinted and made out a head, which looked oddly familiar to him. She had bushy hair and big eyes that were filled with worry. She looked as if she was about to cry.

In her hand she held something as black as the abyss that Harry was falling towards. He watched as she dropped it, and a black snake fell past Harry and was crushed on the rocks. When it fell, Harry heard it hiss as it disappeared, and his eyes immediately opened.

After quite awhile of pounding on the white walls of his prison, he realized that he had slept with his wand the night he had slept for a little too long. He wriggle around, for the box was cramped, and managed to get his wand out of his back pocket. He pointed it at what looked like the clasp that was used to close the box. There was probably a lock on it, and thanks to Hermione, he knew how to unlock things.

"Alohamora!" He yelled, and the clasp—whatever it was—burst from the box and flew away somewhere. Taking a deep, calm breath, and expecting it not to work, Harry picked the top of the box. To his surprise, it flew open.

Again, Harry had to brace himself for what he might find when he stepped out of the box. He had some weird things happen to him in the past, and he honestly didn't know what awaited him. He could wake up in Aragog's cave, or in Hagrid's Hut—the last one would be strange and somewhat awkward. He imagined himself hopping out of the box to find Hagrid eating a steak. Hopefully he wouldn't have to awkwardly say 'hi' and then run away to the castle.

His nervousness was put to ease when he looked up at the ceiling above him, which, Thank Merlin, was one hundred feet above him and halted his claustrophobia. He recognized it immediately; it was the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Thank Merlin!

He lifted himself into a seated position and then, to his surprise, saw every member of Hogwarts staring at him completely awestruck.

"What's happening, guys?" Harry asked everyone in the room nonchalantly. His eyes fell to Ginny, and he immediately felt less uneasy. It had seemed like months since he had last seen her. Why was she crying? As he prepared to get out of the box and go join her, her eyes widened in shock and she fainted. George fanned her with a piece of paper, but she was too shocked to open her eyes.

Dumbledore, who was standing behind the box, peered out over his podium and looked at Harry. It looked very peculiar from where Harry was sitting.

"Oh! Good Evening Mr. Potter! What an odd time to join us, eh?" He asked, and an uneasy laugh trickled through the audience.

"What's happening, Professor?" Harry asked as he continued to search the room for any sign of explanation. It was then that he saw the banners hanging from the ceiling. The banners that usually carried the different House flags, were now carrying banners with his face on them. On them were written in big bold letters:

HARRY POTTER: A BELOVED HERO

Harry felt that it was quite overdramatic. He never considered himself to be a hero, not by any standards. In his mind, heroes were the people that could fight off the bad guys with no help, and did everything themselves. He never really did anything by himself. In fact, he always had help from Ron and Hermione. Occasionally Dumbledore would help, but he usually ended up giving Harry convoluted clues that ended up confusing him more. In any case, Harry usually got lucky when he was fighting off Lord Voldemort and other bad people and creatures. He wondered why there were pictures of him all over the Great Hall, anyway. Why would they be up there? The only reason to have pictures of someone is if…

They died.

Harry abruptly jumped out of the box—making all of Hogwarts gasp from the sudden action—and looked at what he was in. It wasn't just a white box. It was a white _casket_.

"What the hell guys!" He said loudly.

The entire room was silent.

"Why exactly was I in a coffin?" He turned towards Dumbledore when he asked this question.

Dumbledore pushed his half moon spectacles up a little farther on his nose and took a deep breath. A wrinkle appeared in between his eyes, and his forehead scrunched up, as if he was deep in thought.

"A lot has happened since you've been gone, Harry. We can go to my office with both Mr. Weasleys and Ms. Weasley. This should be talked about in private." Dumbledore had a grave expression on his face.

"What are you talking about? While I was gone?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"It's been a few months. Please, let us proceed into my office?" Dumbledore walked out from behind the podium and began ushering Harry out of the Great Hall. "Fred? George? I suggest you and your sister—you best carry her—come to my office. This information also includes you."

It finally dawned on Harry why it felt like he hadn't seen Ginny in months. Had he really been gone all that long? Sure, it seemed like his dream was taking an abnormal amount of time to come to an end, but could it really have lasted months? Nightmares seemed long, but he doubted it could have lasted that long.

Unless Harry had actually died. Dreams could last hours, but could death last months? Why had he died? And why had he come back to life?

As he followed Dumbledore to his office, he knew that he was going to find out what the hell was going on. He stroked Ginny's hair and smiled at her. For now, he was just happy to see her unconscious face.


	17. A Steak Named Hermione Granger

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** So, this Fanfiction of mine is now being turned in as a school assignment, so it will be finished by tomorrow night. Just thought you should know. PS this is now my FAVORITE chapter. Read and Review.

Chapter Seventeen: A Steak Named Hermione Granger

The Room of Requirement had changed its face. It was no longer required to be the hiding place for stolen trinkets. Hermione didn't need it any longer, and Voldemort didn't need it to catch his prey. It had now changed into a pitch black dungeon with nothing in it but Hermione and the Dark Lord.

Hermione opened her eyes, amazed that she was still alive. When everything went black, she had assumed that she had been murdered. But she hadn't seen a jet of green light. All she saw was black. Now, wherever she was, black was the only thing to surround her as well. It was colder than anything Hermione had ever experienced before. The floor was marble and felt as if it was frozen over with a layer of ice. Her hands stuck to the floor—like a kid sticking their tongue on a frozen pole. The frigid air clung to her skin and bonded her palms to the marble floor. Her nervousness made her sweat and it attracted all of the moisture in the air. Soon Hermione was not only stuck to the floor, but she was wet and on the verge of hypothermia.

The quiet laughter that encircled her around the room didn't help her fragile mental state. It was pitch black, and Hermione tried to figure out where the voice was coming from. Obviously, it was Voldemort, but where was he? She heard a hiss from twenty feet behind her. She heard a low groan from ten feet in front of her. She heard loud laughter to her left, and then she heard a cold whisper into her right ear.

"You underestimated me, Ms. Granger." Lord Voldemort whispered into her ear. His icy breath blew across her neck and down her spine, sending her body into uncontrollable convulsions.

She was freezing to death, and her body tried to warm itself up by violently moving itself across the floor. Her arms twitched and her feet moved rapidly in circles. Her legs, which were already scattered across the floor, opened and closed like scissors tearing across a page. Her head twitched in odd directions and her torso looked as if it was trying to take the shape of a spiral staircase. Through her violent shivering, Hermione could barely hear the scream that came out of Voldemort.

"Crucio!" He yelled, and Hermione screamed in agony as the convulsing stopped. She was writhing on the floor in pain, wailing to no one and hoping someone would save her.

It felt as if someone was sending 100,000 volts through her body, and the connection point was her brain. Her jaw hurt like no other as the raw power flowed through her bones. She clenched her jaw shut to stop herself from screaming and it made her entire head quake. Her eyes were bleeding, she was sure of it. Or at least she felt that way. The tears that surged out of her could have been anything. It was as if Voldemort had stopped the blood flow to Hermione's legs, because they throbbed and showed no sign of stopping. People might as well have been kicking her in the gut, breaking her ribs, and hitting her with hammers. Anything would feel better than the pain that controlled her body. For the first time in her life, Hermione begged for death. Or she was at least _thinking_ about begging for death.

Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, Voldemort went and proved her wrong. It was still pitch black, so Hermione didn't see it coming. Voldemort had come up behind her, waiting for the perfect time to make his move. He kicked Hermione's lower back, and when she went limp he used his foot to roll her over onto her stomach. He looked her over to assess the wounds he had inflicted, thoughts of how to make her pain worse turning in his head. He found a spot that he had already injured, and decided to make it worse.

The shard of glass that stuck out from the back of Hermione's thigh had at least an inch to go before it was fully in her leg. It was already two inches in—what would another inch hurt? Lifting his right foot high above her leg, he took a deep breath and slammed his foot onto the piece of glass.

Hermione's ear splitting screams could be heard from across the world. She rolled into the fetal position and sobbed into her bleeding abdomen. Her tears mixed with the blood on her shirt and dripped onto the icy floor. The pain was excruciating, and when crying wasn't enough to settle it she opened her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could.

Hermione knew that she had to do something. It was hard to think with a shard of glass tearing through her muscle, but death was fast approaching and she couldn't die without doing a little damage herself.

Her senses were getting better in the dark atmosphere. She was beginning to hear Voldemort coming. She felt him kneel down to attempt to whisper something into her ear. Before he could say anything, she flipped her body over and screamed like never before into his ear. Voldemort, covering his ears from the shrieking, jumped back in surprise. He had to recover a moment while the ringing in his ears stopped. When he turned around to kill Hermione for damaging him, she was gone.

Afraid he wouldn't be able to kill her right then and there, Voldemort frantically searched through the room. Where the hell was she?

Hermione, who knew the Room of Requirement better than anyone else, knew that it was always equipped for the seeker's needs. She needed something to see in the dark, and she needed her wand. Almost instantly, her wand appeared in her back pocket and a pair of glasses appeared in her hands. She put them on, and was amazed when she could see the entire room. She had night vision. It was time to take revenge.

She saw Voldemort frantically searching through the room looking for her. She knew she'd only have one shot at this. If she missed, he's kill her before she had a chance to blink. She aimed her wand directly at his chest, and yelled as loud as she could.

"CRUCIO!"

The revenge had begun.

* * *

"We don't have time to dilly-dally." Dumbledore said with a serious facial expression. The wrinkles on his forehead and between his eyes had come back again.

"Why not? What is there to do?" Harry asked.

"Well, Mr. Potter…" Dumbledore said slowly. "Ms. Granger has done an excellent job of saving your life. It seems that now, you must extend the same courtesy to her."

Fred's ears perked up at the very mention of Hermione. He was filled with anger, excitement, and worry all at the same time. His emotional range was rather small, so feeling three emotions at once was difficult for him to control.

"Hermione's in trouble?" Fred asked, although he sounded more angry than questioning.

"Yes Mr. Weasley. She is in grave danger."

Before Harry, or anyone else for that matter, had a chance to figure out what was going on, Fred was speaking again.

"What's wrong? Is this about her disappearance? Where do we go? Where is she? What do I have to do?"

"You mean what do _we_ have to do?" Ron asked angrily. He was already a shade of violet and was clutching onto his chair to control himself.

"Where is she, Professor?" Harry asked calmly. He would be the only one whose hormones wouldn't effect his decision making, that's for sure.

"She's in the past." Dumbledore said flatly.

"Okay… that's going to be difficult to work with. You're going to have to help me out here." Harry said.

Fred was practically jumping in his seat. It had been so long since he had seen Hermione. He hadn't looked at her beautiful bushy hair, or her big brown eyes, or her lips... He hadn't argued with her or called her a nerd, or looked at her lips… There was so much he wanted to say to her. Well, there was really only one thing he wanted to do, and it involved her lips. His daydream was interrupted by Ron hitting him with a newspaper.

"Get a hold of yourself! You're salivating for Merlin's sake!" He snapped.

"Salivating? Is there a steak around?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yeah." Ron replied. "There's a steak, and her name is Hermione Granger!"

Fred had grabbed a handful of candy from Dumbledore's desk and hurled it as his brother's face.

"Oy!" Harry yelled as he got up to his feet. "Both of you will get a grip! You can argue over who gets her later, when she's alive! Assuming that you're stalling hasn't killed her already!"

Fred and Ron instantly composed themselves.

"What do we have to do?" Fred asked, attempting to be calm.

"I have a job for all of you. Harry, Fred, and Ron—I want you to find Hermione and bring her back. That's all I want you to do. I don't want you to get into a duel with the Dark Lord or anything—"

"She's with Voldemort!?" Fred half asked, half screamed.

"Yes. Anyways, don't fight with him. Get Hermione and come back here."

"How are we going to do that?" Harry asked.

"By portkey, of course!" Dumbledore replied while rolling his eyes, as if the answer was totally obvious. He pulled a cup out of his desk drawer and handed it to Fred.

"Mr. Weasley…" Dumbledore said to Fred. "I want you to hold the portkey. Don't touch it until you are going to use it, otherwise you'll come back to the future and we'll have to start all over again. Put it in a backpack until it's needed."

"Okay." Fred agreed wholeheartedly.

"As for the other Mr. Weasley," he turned to look at George. "I want you to do something different from what the other boys are doing."

"Aww, no heroic battles for me?" He asked, making puppy dog eyes.

Dumbledore ignored George's last comment and rifled through his desk. He pulled out a glass vial and handed it to George.

"Take this," he said, "and put it into Narcissa Malfoy's drink."

Every boy snapped their head to look at Dumbledore in confusion.

"What?" George asked, clearly baffled.

"Put all of this in her drink. When she's had it, come home immediately. I'm giving you a portkey as well. Don't let anyone touch it. This job is just as important as saving Hermione."

"Umm. Okay…" George said, thinking in his head that Dumbledore had gone mad.

In the chaos of learning what they had to do, everyone had forgotten a key element.

"We don't have a time turner, Dumbledore." Harry stated.

"Yes." Dumbledore stated. "Yes, I know."

* * *

"CRUCIO" Hermione had yelled at Voldemort.

Without realizing what was coming, Voldemort fell to the floor and trembled violently. He had enough composure to restrain the screams that were clawing their way out of his throat. He managed to de-claw them and stay silent. Hermione wondered if he could see where she was as she quickly approached him, getting ready to do something horrendous. She promised herself that she would never do this again. She had to do it once, though. This was for revenge.

"You underestimated me, Voldemort." Hermione growled, and spat in his face.

With the end of her comment, Hermione pulled back her leg as far as she could and released it into Voldemort's abdomen. He groaned as the pain from her curse and her foot dug into his body. She felt the anger in herself rising to unbelievable levels. She kicked him over and over and over again, hoping that each kick inflicted terrible amounts of pain. She kicked him in the chest, hearing the wind get knocked out of him, and then she kicked him in the groin as hard as her leg could kick.

She was about to send another torture curse at him, but she stopped herself before she could command her wand to do something.

Hermione had always considered herself a good guy, the person who never did anything wrong. She was always the one fighting for justice… Was this justice? How was this any better than what Voldemort had done to her just seconds earlier? Part of being the good guy was knowing when to quit, and Hermione realized that it was time for her to stop.

With one last kick in the groin, Hermione walked out of the Room of Requirement, but not without asking it to be escape proof. He would be stuck there until someone found him. If they wanted to kill him, it was up to them.

When the door to the Room of Requirement was shut, Hermione felt all of her energy drain from her body. Every inner strength she had used to escape from Voldemort was gone, and she fell to the floor. Her knees collapsed, and her shins rammed into the back of her thighs. The shard of glass drove farther into her leg, and Hermione screamed in horror once again.

"Hermione!" A familiar voice yelled, and before she could get on her feet Fred Weasley sprinted around the corner.

"Fr-Fred?" She asked weakly, trying to hold herself up with her elbows.

"Hermione!" He yelled again, and practically dove to her side.

Fred checked her out to make sure she wasn't about to die from injuries, and after making sure that she was alright, he did something he wanted to do since that first night in the Gryffindor Common Room.

He grabbed Hermione's shoulders, yanked her towards him, and planted his lips onto hers.


	18. One Track Mindset

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** So, this Fanfiction of mine is now being turned in as a school assignment, so it will be finished by tomorrow night. Just thought you should know. Read and Review.

Chapter Eighteen: One Track Mindset

"What exactly are we looking for?" Harry asked Fred as they raced down a corridor on the second floor.

Fred had gone crazy yet again. It didn't take Harry very long to figure out that _things_ had happened while he was gone. Very strange things, to be exact. Fred Weasley, who was always too busy playing jokes on people to notice anything, was now suddenly interested in Hermione Granger? Hermione, who was always too busy studying to notice anything else? Harry didn't like dying—strange occurrences took place when he was dead. He made a note to prolong his death as long as possible as he chased after Fred down the hallway.

Fred, on the other hand, wasn't thinking about death or pranks. He had a one track mindset, and at that moment it was focused on Hermione. He longed to see her face again. It had been months since he last saw her when his foot was caught in the trick step. Although he planned on yelling at her for tricking him and _leaving_ him, he also planned on never leaving her side. Until his following became stalker-like, then he'd take a step back.

"We're looking for Nearly Headless Nick." Fred finally replied.

Harry was now confused as ever. Nearly Headless Nick? What did he have to do with anything?

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"I'm not going to tell you. I'm going to _show_ you. You brought the pepper, right?" He snapped back at Harry.

"Yes…"

"Good, then move faster so we can get this over with!"

It took them a good fifteen minutes of running around to find him. He was outside of the Gryffindor Common Room talking with the Fat Lady. They seemed to be having a lively conversation, but Fred didn't hesitate to interrupt them.

"Nick!" He yelled, and chuckled a bit when Sir Nicholas jumped in surprise. He didn't look annoyed—which was what Fred was expecting—and turned around and smiled at Fred.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" He asked politely.

"I need you to do something important for me!"

There was a silence as Sir Nicholas waited for Fred ton continue. Fred took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy for him.

"You know the… thing we talked about awhile ago?"

Sir Nicholas scratched his ghostly head. "No, not really Mr. Weasley. I talk to quite a few people and-OH! The incident with the pepper! That really was quite funny. We should do it again sometime."

"Yeah. So, the girl that went missing."

"The one that you care about a great deal more than you'll care to admit?" Sir Nicholas asked with a grin on his face. Ron cringed and turned purple.

"Uhh, yeah." Fred hesitated and forced himself not to look over at his brother. "So, I need you to find her again."

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to talk to your former self and find out where in the castle she is. Right this moment, but in the past. Lead me to her."

"Excuse me for a moment, Fat Lady. This will only take a few minutes."

Sir Nicholas floated silently in the air for a few seconds, looking around in the past to see if he could find Hermione. He decided to work his way from the bottom up. He floated to the first floor, quickly flying around. It was no hard task for him, but it was hard for Harry, Fred, and Ron to keep up with him. Floors past quickly. First, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth… Fred wondered if Hermione was even in the castle.

Until they reached the seventh floor. Nearly Headless Nick made his way over to a door and suddenly gasped in horror.

"What is it?" Fred demanded, trying to tug at Nick's non-existent body.

When Sir Nicholas didn't respond, Fred began to get desperate. He started to sweat; the fear that had taken over his body was uncontrollable. He looked around to see if he was missing something. It was a wasted effort, because everything Nick was seeing was in the past. With nothing else to do, Fred lunged over to Harry and yanked the pepper from out of his hands. He pulled his arm backwards, and then shook pepper all over Sir Nicholas. What he could manage to shake out of the bottle wasn't enough for Fred. He took off the cap and poured the entire contents of the bottle onto Sir Nicholas.

Again, that odd process had begun again. Sir Nicholas began to sneeze uncontrollably, and his body flew in circles. With every new sneeze brought another new hole in his stomach. Fred looked through Nick's gut, and he didn't like what he saw.

Hermione screaming on the ground, and Voldemort laughing as he yelled, "Crucio!"

Fred pulled his head out of Nick's stomach so fast it almost made his head spin. Without telling anyone where he was going, he ran past Ron and Harry and headed for the moving staircases. He had an inkling as to where he might find a time turner. If there was only one in existence at the school, there was only two places it could be. It could be with the person who has control of it, or it could be where that person sleeps. He was betting that it was where Hermione slept.

His one track mindset had returned again as he jumped three steps at a time down the moving staircases. Ron and Harry were following close behind, trying to figure out what was going through Fred's mind _this_ time.

Fred got down the stairs in record time, and he wondered if someone on a broom could travel faster than he did. He doubted it, because he was running really fast. He high tailed to the secret passageway where Hermione had written him that note—he grumbled at how pathetic it was—and opened the passageway without checking to see if anyone was looking. Harry and Ron caught up with him just in time before the entrance to the passageway closed, and soon they found themselves in a place they had never been before.

No one really knew that these passages existed. They had heard rumors, for sure, but they had never found one. Some students spent their entire seven years at Hogwarts searching for the passages, but few actually found them. Fred was one of them, and now Ron and Harry were as well.

Fred ran one hundred yards into the passageway, and all Harry and Ron could hear from behind him was the sound of him tripping over something, and the crash of his body against the stone floor.

Fred's eyes widened in excitement when he realized what he had fallen over. He looked behind him to see two big pillows and a blanket, and wondered if it could really be what he thought it was. Was it really Hermione's pillow?

"Is this what you've been looking for?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Fred took one of the pillows in his hand. He put the pillow up to his nose, and smelled it. He sighed a sigh of relief, sat down on the floor, and smiled. This was it. It smelled like Hermione. It was sweet, but strong, and he recognized her smell right away. He cringed a little bit when he realized that he probably looked like a hound dog searching for a lost girl's scent. Who cared? He had what he needed.

"This is what we've been looking for."

"A… pillow?" Harry and Ron asked together in unison.

"This isn't just any pillow, guys. It's Hermione's pillow!"

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"It smells like her."

The hallway suddenly got very quiet. It wasn't normal silence, either. It was awkward silence. The kind of silence where no one wants to talk about what was just said. The kind of silence that makes people focus on the awkward comment, and makes them cringe. In Harry's case, he cringed at the thought of how Fred came to learn what Hermione smelled like. In Ron's case, it was more of just blind fury.

"Umm…" Harry began. "How do you know what she smells like?"

Fred cringed. "Uh, it's a long story…"

In order to distract Harry and Ron, Fred gripped both sides of the pillow firmly and shook it. The open part of the pillowcase was aimed towards the floor, and with a few shakes, something gold fell out of it. Everyone stared at the necklace on the ground with utter amazement. To them, it was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen. It was the one thing they truly needed, and they were excited beyond all belief that it had fallen into their hands with little to no effort.

Hermione's time turner lay on the floor.

Fred pulled the time turner off of the ground and placed the long chain around himself, Fred, Harry, and George. George had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, it seemed. He had been in Dumbledore's office longer than the others. He had special orders to follow, and it took him a bit longer to figure out exactly what he was supposed to do.

After twisting the knob on top for quite some time, all four boys disappeared into the night.


	19. Enthusiasm

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** So, this Fanfiction of mine is now being turned in as a school assignment, so it will be finished by tonight. Just thought you should know. Read and Review.

Chapter Nineteen: Enthusiasm

Harry, Fred, George, and Ron appeared in the secret passageway after a few seconds of traveling back in time. It looked the same as it had in the future, although it looked a little cleaner. They saw Hermione's pillow, and the sight of it pumped Fred up. As Fred, Ron, and Harry ran up to the seventh floor to rescue Hermione, George went in another direction.

George stayed behind as the others went to the Room or Requirement. He opened the backpack that Dumbledore had given him and rummaged inside of it to get what he needed. Inside were a pair of Slytherin robes. George quickly stripped off the Gryffindor robes he was wearing and changed into the Slytherin ones. He had to stop and take a deep breath for a moment before he could do anything else. It was strange to be dressed up as a Slytherin. It wasn't going to be hard to pretend to be one—just act snotty and pretentious—but it was going to be weird to walk inside the Slytherin Common Room. He had never been there, and he had been at Hogwarts for almost six years. What was it going to look like? Would there be snakes lining the walls? Would they have a portrait of a Fat Snake, instead of a Fat Lady? Oh that's right. The password is _shuntbumps_.

After straightening his new robes, and putting his old ones back into his backpack, he headed for the end of the secret passageway. He walked down to the dungeons, waiting for someone to spot him and say, "Hey! You don't belong here! Go back to Gryffindor!" He inevitably drew more attention than he would have liked, but mainly because no one had ever seen him before. His bright red hair didn't help him either.

The entrance to the Slytherin Common Room wasn't anything like he'd expected it to be. It was just as large—maybe even larger—than the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, but it was completely black. When he went to open the door, a deep voice spoke to him.

"Password please." The voice said.

"Shuntbumps." George replied, and the big black door swung open.

George was amazed at all that he was seeing. He was close when he guessed that the walls would be lined with snakes. There were skulls all over the walls, and everything was painted a very dark green. Some things had a silver lining, but a majority of everything was dark, dingy, expensive looking, and evil. Maybe not evil, but George thought it looked evil. The main room was very large, and George was amazed at how big it really was. The Slytherin Common Room was, after all, under the Black Lake. The Black Lake was enormous, and George wondered if the entire Common Room was as large as the lake was.

There were only a few students who remained in the main Common Room. It was late, after all, and he assumed that the rest of the students were in their Dormitories sleeping.

George hadn't quite come up with a plan on how he was going to get Narcissa Malfoy to drink the potion that he carried in his backpack. He walked over to a large, black leather couch and sat down in it. It was extremely comfortable, and George began to feel himself doze off. If he wasn't careful, he'd fall asleep and never get the job done.

The couch George sat in was placed in front of the fireplace. To the right of the giant mantle there was a stack of wood. It was up to the students to keep the dungeon—Common Room—warm, and it was when he looked at the piles of firewood that George had an idea.

It was already hot in the Common Room. It was warmer than George had ever experienced when he was in the Gryffindor Common room, at least. He peeked behind the couch to find a table, and pulled it over to the side of the couch. He grabbed his backpack from the floor and took out a bottle of water, a glass mug, and a bag of ice tea mix. He poured himself a glass of water, and stirred the ice tea mix in nice and slow. He left it on the edge of the table, hoping that someone would come along and drink it without asking him…

George hopped of the couch and walked over to the piles of firewood. He grabbed a stack and hoisted them in, piece by piece, into the already hot flames. He threw every piece of wood he could find—which was a _lot_—and scavenged the room for every piece of paper he could find. After twenty minutes, the fire blazing out of the fireplace was so hot that people from across the room could feel it and were sweating.

"Why is it so bloody hot!" He heard a girl asked in a very annoyed tone. Loud footsteps made their way down the staircase from the Girls' Dormitory, and George knew who it was immediately.

There she was: Narcissa Malfoy. Her long, flowing blonde hair looked almost as wild as her facial expression did. Narcissa looked angry and ready to hurt something, and George noticed that she was sweating. Behind Narcissa were two of he friends, although they looked like servants more than anything else. This was Slytherin, after all, so if the two girls turned out to be her servants it wouldn't be at all surprising.

Narcissa caught George staring at her when she was halfway down the staircase. Her angry look turned menacing as she glared at him and made her way over to where he sat on the couch.

"What are _you_ looking at?" She asked angrily, putting her hand on her hip.

"No need to flatter yourself, Narcissa. I'm looking at every equally—why would I be staring just as you?" George replied in a rude tone.

Narcissa's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. She gave him a look of pure death. Clearly no one had ever spoken to her in such a way, and the thought of not being the center of every boy's attention visibly bothered her. Looking for a way to annoy George, her eyes scanned all of his belongings. She found George looking at his ice tea protectively, and decided that she would drink it. Her hand zoomed over to the glass of ice tea, picked it up, and she chugged it all in one sitting. Sighing, Narcissa had a satisfied look on her face. She wiped the ice tea from the edges of her mouth, and turned away to walk back to her dormitory.

"Thanks." She said smugly.

George grinned. "No," he said, "Thank you."

George got up from the couch and put everything back into his backpack. He walked out into the dungeons and found a dark pillar he could hide behind so no one would see him. He reopened his backpack, and before he grabbed the portkey inside of it, he smiled at the empty potion container at the bottom of the bag. He grabbed the portkey and was launched forward to his time.

Evil people are always so easy to manipulate. As long as you count on them being evil, they'll always do exactly what you want them to.

* * *

Fred was getting ready to round the corner and make the final sprint to the Room of Requirement when he heard anguished screams coming from a girl. He automatically knew who it was. Panic struck his entire body as he feared for the worst. Lord Voldemort must have been around the corner, and he had probably just killed Hermione. He knew that Hermione could defend herself, but how long could anyone last against someone so powerful and bent on destruction? The fact that he couldn't answer his own question only worried Fred more.

When he rounded the corner and saw only Hermione, Fred became the happiest boy alive. There she was! His salvation! His wonderful, beautiful, not-girlfriend was alive!

"Hermione!" he yelled as he sprinted towards her.

He practically dove at her he was so excited. He looked over her before he hugged her. He didn't want to do anything stupid like further her injuries.

Hermione looked shot to hell. Blood covered her cheeks and dirt covered the rest of her face; the only sign of skin underneath the mess was the flesh color unveiled by tear streaks. She had cuts all over her arms, and as she tried to lift herself up, the back of her shirt lifted up a little, and Fred noticed the mark of a chain deeply ingrained into her lower back. The back of her thigh was bloody, and something thick was stuck into it. He definitely needed to get back to their time before something else went wrong. For now, he was just glad that she was alive.

He couldn't help but look at her face. Even with blood stained cheeks and bruises, Fred still couldn't help himself. Sure, it was a little weird, thinking that someone this beaten up was beautiful. That was the kind of mentality wife beaters had. _She looks gorgeous like this! I think I'll hit her some more!_

The thing that made Fred happy was the look in Hermione's eyes when she saw Fred turn the corner. They widened in disbelief, and then went back to normal size. He saw her face light up, and something inside of him told him that she wasn't just happy because he was coming to save her. Obviously that was a factor, but there were _clearly_ other reasons. Right?

He couldn't help himself any longer and he didn't realize he was kissing Hermione until it was already happening. He kissed her with such enthusiasm that he wondered if he'd ever be able to stop himself. He liked the feeling of her warm lips—although he noted that they'd taste better when they weren't cut and covered in dry blood—and hoped that she was feeling the same way.

"Um, Fred…" Harry interrupted in a very uncomfortable, high pitched voice. He cleared his throat a few times to get the message across. Fred looked up from kissing Hermione.

"What?" He asked angrily.

"It might help if she were conscious." Harry added thoughtfully. Fred looked over to Hermione and realized that she had fainted in his arms.

Oh, _well then_. That's awkward. Without any further thought, Fred took the portkey out of his backpack, held Hermione's hands, and waited for Harry and Ron to grab on. Soon, they plummeted forward in time.


	20. A Tiny Fragment

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** So, this Fanfiction of mine is now being turned in as a school assignment, so it will be finished by tonight. Just thought you should know. Read and Review. This is the second to last chapter of this story.

Chapter Twenty: A Tiny Fragment

It was dark in the Hospital Wing. Hermione had arrived in Fred's arms just hours earlier, bleeding and looking like death. The shard of glass that had been shoved into the back of her thigh was turning crusty and screamed with infection. Before it was in Hermione's body, it was part of a vial filled with an unknown potion. The potion had seeped into Hermione's body and gone through her system, and Hermione suddenly couldn't stay conscious any longer.

Madam Pomfrey was worried that Hermione might not make it through the night. She assured a very worried Fred that if she could survive the next twelve hours than she would be fine. Blind hope was never something Fred depended on to keep himself sane, and it troubled him that he had to do so now.

Everyone had left to go to bed—Madam Pomfrey forbid anyone from staying overnight. It was just Hermione and the darkness, and someone waited in the shadows for everyone to leave to make their move.

He had been here before as a student. He had hurt himself a few times over the years of attending Hogwarts. He wasn't a frequent visitor; in his opinion, his biggest accomplishment was the fact that he sent hundreds of people to the Hospital Wing. All with the flick of his wand, he created injury after injury. Inflicting pain on others had become his hobby.

Lord Voldemort stepped out of the shadows. Hermione had been within his crushing grip, and she had slipped away, and humiliated him in the process. He was through with teaching her what pain was; he had hurt her enough to make her pain excruciating for weeks. Now it was time for her to die, plain and simple. No dilly-dallying, just death.

He walked over to Hermione's bed, and he watched as his presence made her shiver. Just being within ten feet of her gave her nightmares, and he watched as her eyes flickered back and forth, and she opened her mouth wide as if she was screaming. She was screaming for help, and no one would be there to help her. Poor, stupid little witch.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" He yelled, and Hermione's eyes rolled back into her head.

Hermione jolted upright out of her dream. She fought back the urge to scream. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. She could feel her pulse in every part of her body thumping away, pumping her blood faster and faster until she was dizzy. Hermione's head was spinning, and she might have fainted if a warm hand hadn't touched her arm.

Hermione calmed down instantly when she turned around and realized it was Fred.

"I was waiting for you to wake up." He said sweetly, with a smile on his face. Hermione blinked a few times to make sure this was actually happening.

"What time is it?" She asked, groggy from sleep.

"It's 7AM. You got here early this morning."

"Oh…"

Fred moved his hand and placed it on top of Hermione's. A shiver went down Hermione's spine, and for once, it wasn't because Voldemort was nearby. Her heart felt light and skipped a few beats, and she sat in her bed content with the world.

"How long have you been here?" Hermione asked.

"Since you got here this morning. I carried you in here, actually."

It was then that Hermione remembered what had happened before she passed out. She fell to the floor, content with dying from the pain, when Fred raced around a corner and came to her aid. Had he… kissed her before she blacked out? She suddenly turned bright fuchsia, and looked away to keep from embarrassing herself further.

Fred knew what she was thinking about, and grinned like an idiot at the sight of her blush.

"Yeah." He said, utterly satisfied with himself.

"Sorry about falling asleep on you."

"It's okay Hermione. I know I'm boring, you don't have to protect my feelings."

Hermione laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. When she extended her arm, however, she was met with a very sharp pain that radiated from the tips of her fingers all the way up to her shoulder blades.

"Ouch!" She yelped, and Fred pulled away, afraid of hurting her.

"It's best that you don't move. Madam Pomfrey says you won't be getting out of bed for two weeks at least."

"That's fine with me." Hermione said as she felt her shoulder ache.

"So…" Fred started to say. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"If you really want to hear it, fine. But otherwise, I'd rather not speak about it again."

"That's great! We'd love to hear about it."

"We?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

It was then that Harry, Ron, and Ginny jumped out from behind the curtain by the window and ran over to Hermione's bed. Ginny and Harry shared a chair—Ginny sat in Harry's lap. Now over the shock of Harry coming out of the casket, she was the happiest girl alive. Her hand stayed latched to Harry's, and she received no complaint. Together, they both had grins wide enough to reach China, and both were okay with never leaving each other again.

When Hermione laid eyes on Harry, a smile appeared on her face.

"Harry…" She said with outstretched arms. She ignored the pain that jolted through her arms, and gave Harry a bear hug.

"Hi, Hermione. So I think some thanks are in order?"

Hermione looked confused.

"You saved my life. Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione grinned. "Oh, you know me! Always there to help."

It was an ungodly hour, and Hermione was amazed that any of her friends—and one possible boyfriend?—were up. Although all she wanted to do was go to sleep and wake up when the pain was over, she knew she had a lot of explaining to do.

"Well guys," she said, smiling at all of her friends. "Where should I start?"

* * *

It was midday, and Fred had refused to leave Hermione's side. Madam Promfrey had to literally sweep him away with a broom—she might have hit him a few times in the process—in order to get him out of the Hospital Wing. Hermione was alone for the first time all day, and she didn't like the feeling. Of course, she shouldn't have expected that she would be alone for very long.

Dumbledore entered the Hospital Wing with flowers and a present. Hermione thanked Dumbledore, saying that it was unnecessary but appreciated, and opened up the box to find a chocolate time turner. Dumbledore laughed and said he thought it was an appropriate gift. He did suggest, however, that she eat it before anyone else came along to steal it from her clutches. For all she knew, the dueling knights could be in the mood for another duel—this time with Hermione.

After a great deal of small talk, Hermione couldn't hold back her curiosity any longer.

"Dumbledore?" She asked him quietly.

It seemed that Dumbledore already knew what she was going to ask.

"You want to know how you saved Harry's life twice."

"I really do, Professor. George said something about putting a potion into Narcissa Malfoy's drink. Is that what you were going to have me do?"

"Indeed I was, Ms. Granger. You see, Narcissa Malfoy plays an important role in Harry's future."

"Really? What does she do?" Hermione's stomach was burning with desire; she _had_ to know.

"Before I shed a word of knowledge, you must promise never to tell another living soul about this. _Especially_ Harry."

"I promise." Hermione meant it; there was no mistaking it.

"Good, then. You see, a few years from now something is going to happen at Hogwarts. A battle, it would seem, of us versus Lord Voldemort."

"He escaped from the Room of Requirement, then?" Hermione asked, disappointed.

"Yes he did. He does have his many ways. In any case, let me move on. There comes a point in every person's life where they must choose who they are loyal to. In Narcissa Malfoy's case, she will choose between her loyalty to Lord Voldemort and the love she holds for her son."

"I don't understand, Professor Dumbledore."

"There will come a point when the world believes, or at least Voldemort will believe, that Harry is dead. It is up to Narcissa to make the final diagnosis. She will touch him and feel his heart beat, but she will still confirm his death. You see, Ms. Granger, the potion I had the young Mr. Weasley put into her drink is one that effects loyalty. In a time when everyone around her was turning to the dark side and joining Voldemort's forces, she felt that she had to do the same. Remember when I told you that the Slytherin's were beginning to act strange? They were all becoming loyal followers of Voldemort. Narcissa felt blind loyalty to Voldemort, as did the rest of her friends, until one oddly hot night. She came down to the common room and stole someone's glass of ice tea, and ever since that moment she had an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. The loyalty of her friends didn't make her feel the same. Although she followed Voldemort, a tiny fragment inside of her wanted to rebel against him. That tiny fragment, Ms. Granger, is what will save Harry's life."

"I understand now. I promise, I won't tell anyone. Thank you for letting me know."

"Not a problem, Ms. Granger. Now I'll leave you to get your rest. You best sleep now before Fred comes along—there's no way he's going to let you sleep."

Hermione laughed as Dumbledore left the Hospital Wing. She had broken bones, shattered muscle, and endless pain, but her mind was free and clear of worry.


	21. When Voldemort's Away

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to say that I own Fred Weasley, I tragically don't. I do not own any of the characters related to Harry Potter, and I never will.

**Author's Note:** So, this Fanfiction of mine is now being turned in as a school assignment, so it will be finished by tonight. Just thought you should know. Read and Review. This is the second to last chapter of this story.

Chapter Twenty: When Voldemort's Away

It was late in the Gryffindor common room. Everyone had gone to bed after an exhausting day at Harry Potter's funeral. The stress of thinking that their savior was dead, and then the stress from watching him pop out of his casket had taken a toll on every one. Gryffindors, Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws alike were all in bed trying to recuperate.

Harry laid on his back up in the Boys' Dormitory, unable to sleep. The last time he went to sleep he didn't wake up for a few months. Harry had no intention of going to sleep for at least another day. The irrational fear that he wouldn't wake up plagued him, so he stared at the ceiling. Until he heard snoring coming from the common room. If for some reason his body did attempt to sleep, he knew he'd never be able to with the noises coming from downstairs. He was a light sleeper, so in order to save his body the aggravation he got out of bed and went downstairs to see what was up.

Harry put on some socks to keep his feet warm, and grabbed a polar fleece pullover that was hanging off of his bed. After letting his body heat up, he was ready to go downstairs.

He expected to find someone sleeping, snoring as loud as a car. What he didn't expect to see was Fred and Hermione asleep together on the couch. Fred lay on the outer part of the couch on his back. His left arm was crossed over his stomach and his left leg was threatening to fall off the side of the couch. Hermione slept on her stomach, her right arm over his stomach and her fingers intertwined with his. Her head lay comfortably on his chest, and both Hermione and Fred appeared to have a smile on their face as they slept.

It was still weird for Harry to accept that Hermione was into Fred. He had always thought that she and Ron were destined to be together. Things don't always turn out the way they seem, and Harry was going to have to accept this.

Harry walked around to the front of the couch. Books were scattered across the floor. Pages were bent, as if they were thrown onto the floor and fell open. Hermione wouldn't willingly throw a book or damage it in anyway, but Fred would. Harry cringed as the thought struck him… Hermione trying to study and Fred… distracting her. Yeesh, it was creepy. He'd just have to accept it and comfort Ron while he got over Hermione.

In any case, Harry decided to leave the two lovebirds alone. They were happy, and from the stories Ron had told him earlier, Fred had gone absolutely crazy in the last couple of months. He needed a rock to hold him up, and Hermione appeared to be that rock. He would deal with the goo-goo eyes, the kissing, the flirting. As long as it made both of them happy, he would deal with it.

Before Harry went back upstairs to his room to continue staring at the ceiling, a thought entered his mind that made him laugh. _When Voldemort's away, Fred and Hermione will play_.

_The End_

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for the lame last sentence. I just couldn't think of anything else.**


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